


Strip Away My Conscience

by tuddles



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Awkward Flirting, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Break Up, But they are really switches, Butt Plugs, Come Swallowing, Crowley is a Tease (Good Omens), Crowley to the Rescue (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Depression, Dress-Wearing Crowley (Good Omens), Drunken Shenanigans, Dry Humping, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fat Shaming, Foreplay, Gabriel is a wanker (Good Omens), Hand Jobs, Hangover, Happy Ending, Humor, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Kissing, Lapdance, Lazy Mornings, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Making Up, Masturbation in Bathroom, Memory Loss, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Nervousness, Orgasm, Pole Dancing, Sexual Assault, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Undressing, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25215568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuddles/pseuds/tuddles
Summary: Mr. Aziraphale Z. Fell is a respectable bookshop owner who becomes a regular at a Soho strip club when he comes across a redheaded exotic dancer that he just can't get off his mind.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub & Dagon (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Dagon (Good Omens)
Comments: 465
Kudos: 431
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello you lovely ineffable nerds.
> 
> So, I am dipping my toes into a stripper AU and hopefully I will be able to do the story justice.
> 
> Not too sure at the moment how long this fic is going to be or how quickly I am going to write it, but I hope it will be as fun to read and it will be to write.
> 
> Oh also - this piece was inspired by a song from the TV show Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, so I thought I would put a link to that [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FcmErbAsI7I)
> 
> Wishing you all a lovely day. 
> 
> <3

Armageddon was a blushing rose amongst the prickly thorns that were the seedy underbelly of Soho, London.

The Geddon, as the locals colloquially called it, was a strip club that had opened sometime in the late 2000’s. Over the years that followed, The Geddon went through the usual pattern that most strip clubs did. At first it was the hip new place to be, with the best dancers, the richest clientele and the most excusive guest list. After the novelty of being new and shiny wore off, it experienced a few neglectful years which saw the revenue suffer and most of the dancers moving on to greener pastures.

Luckily for the Geddon, it was owned by a well-off real estate tycoon who was rich enough to not be bothered by the strip club making less than desirable profit. If truth be told, Lucius Montgomery had a particular soft spot for The Geddon, it was like a cute little pet project of his. So, having made it through a handful of depressing years, The Geddon had slowly but surely climbed back up out of its slump and was now comfortably situated in the middle of the road, metaphorically speaking.

Present day, Armageddon was doing alright. Their dancers were skilled, but not the best nor youngest in the business. The bar staff were nice but did not take any crap from handsy patrons. The cocktails were delicious and were just expensive enough to weed out the penniless bums. The result was a comfortable, safe place where employees were content and where customers could enjoy a drink and a lap dance in peace.

This was one of the reasons why, out of all the strip clubs in London, Aziraphale found himself walking through the doors of Armageddon on this quiet Sunday afternoon.

The other reason was a particularly attractive redheaded dancer.

……….

It had been six weeks now since the humble bookshop owner had discovered The Geddon and little in his routine had changed since his first visit to this present day.

At three O’clock on the dot, Mr A. Z. Fell walked through the doors and headed straight to his usual table in the back corner of the club.

With his khaki trousers, vintage waist coat and tartan bowtie, the full-figured blonde looked completely out of place, out of time even. He walked and talked as if he were strolling into an eighteenth-century discreet gentleman’s club instead of a strip joint located between a liquor store and a kebab shop.

Just as always, Aziraphale sat down at the small table at the back and made himself comfortable. This involved opening his rustic leather satchel and taking out a book before neatly placing the bag upon the empty chair beside him. As a man of good breeding, he knew that it was not entirely appropriate to claim a whole chair with his luggage, but as far as he was concerned, the pros of the act far outweighed the cons. For one, he had a place to keep his things in sight and two, he was rather pleased that it would deter anyone from joining him at his little two-person table. Generally speaking, company was all well and good, but it was far from the reason why he came to such an establishment. He would be more interested in talking to a bar of soap than he would to the other patrons there.

Now that he was settled in his chair and with his book, he looked up and was about to wave down someone to take his drink order when a familiar waiter sauntered over to him with a cocktail already in hand.

“Hullo handsome” the attractive, dark-skinned waiter said cheerfully as he approached. With skilled hands, he flipped a coaster down in front of Aziraphale and set the drink neatly on top of it.

“A delicious Old Fashioned, just like you” the black beauty flirted, winking a set of long, luxurious lashes.

“Oh, spot on! Jolly good, th-thank you Eric” the blonde sputtered, trying to hide his embarrassment. He never imagined that he would be one of those people who had a _usual order_ at a strip club. Yet, here he was, and it wasn’t as unpleasant as he thought it would be.

“You're welcome darlin’” Eric said with a fond smile. “Shouldn’t be long, now. He’s set to start at half past” he continued, unable to hold back a smirk when he noticed Aziraphale’s cheeks were turning pink. “Let me know if ya need anythin’ else, love. Enjoy!” he gave another one of those award-winning winks before twirling and swaying off back to the bar.

The blush that was warming the blonde’s pale complexion stayed put while he fished out his reading glasses from his coat pocket, sliding them on and burying his face into his book. If having the staff know his preferred drink was bad, then this was ten times worse. From Eric’s words, it was as plan as day that it was a known fact that Aziraphale was there to watch one dancer and one dancer only. Having such an intimate preference paraded in front of him like it was common knowledge was more than he could handle right now, so he hoped that several pages of Tolstoy would be able to calm his fluttering nerves.

Twenty minutes later Aziraphale was pulled out of his literary escape by the enthusiastic voice of the MC’s announcement on the microphone.

“Give another round of applause for our rowdy, romping, Rural Randy!” the voice exclaimed, coaxing some claps and wolf whistles from the crowd while a muscly blonde in nothing but boots and a cowboy hat exited the stage, picking up a few more bits of cash as he went.

“Stay with us folks cause next up we have the sensuous slithers of the sexy _Serpentarius!_ starting in just five minutes. So, get a fresh drink lads and strap in for some good old trouser snake action!”

If Aziraphale had not been on the edge of his seat with excitement, he may have huffed and rolled his eyes at the MC’s trite choice of words. Honestly, sometimes the announcements made him feel like he was watching some raunchy B-grade movie about a bachelorette party gone wrong. And he should know, his lady friends had certainly dragged him to enough of those kind of films against his will. At least when that happened there was always a steady flow of margaritas to soften the blow.

Corny narration aside, the announcement still struck all the right cords inside of Aziraphale’s chest, making his heart race with anticipation.

The butterflies fluttered in his tummy while he fumbled to slip the bookmark in place and close the novel, removing his reading glasses and safely putting them away. With the _click_ of a buckle, he opened his bag and stashed the beloved Tolstoy away. Before he closed the satchel, he took out his phone and a pair of headphones, setting them on the table. Taking a deep breath, he drained the last of his drink before he opened his phone with a slide of his finger and pressed it a few times to open a music play list.

Now, strictly speaking, Mr Fell was not the kind of person who you would expect to own a mobile telephone let alone a smart phone and a pair of noise cancelling Bluetooth headphones. The fact that he had either could also be blamed on his female friends. Every time he hung out with Tracy and Anathema, they would make comments about how he needed to _catch up with the times_ and _embrace technology_. The two women had finally succeeded to win him over after a series of unfortunate events had left him stranded out in the countryside with a flat tyre on his rental car and no way of calling the auto club, or anyone else for that matter. After a truly unforgettable ride back to town in the back of a pig farmer’s lorry, the idea of a mobile telephone seemed like a much more enticing investment.

The headphones had been a more recent purchase. In fact, he had only bought them a couple of weeks ago and yet again, the redheaded dancer had been the reason for it. To explain why this illusive ginger was having so much influence on Mr Fell’s Sunday schedule and technological purchases, one must look back to six weeks ago when the quite blonde had first experienced Armageddon.

……….

It had been a rather boring Sunday at the end of a particularly bad week. The blonde’s bookshop, _A. Z. Fell and Co._ had been surprisingly busy as it was nearing the end of Summer. Aziraphale always dreaded this time of the year, but not for the reasons one might think. Where any normal person might be sad about the loss of sunny days and blooming flowers, Mr Fell feared the on slaughter of University students who were preparing to recommence their studies. With the return of students from their Summer breaks came a burst of demand for purchasing books and not just any books but his rarer and more treasured tomes.

With some amount of displeasure, the reluctant blonde had tried his best to only sell the new and less precious books which he kept at the front of the store. Dictionaries, textbooks and what have you. Much to his frustration, there had been a handful of rather persistent and pompous fourth year phycology students who were hell bent on acquiring his first edition Freuds. The level of arrogant determination of wealthy Oxford students was impressive, but was still no match for the possessiveness of the wary blonde. Every time the students would enter his shop, Aziraphale would watch like a hawk with his narrowed blue eyes, giving the best _piss off_ glare that he could manage. Unfortunately for him, his softly rounded face was only more adorable when he tried to be grumpy. Thus, the students just kept on coming back over and over again day after day.

This was the original reason why he had had enough and decided to close his shop for the entire weekend. Damn the weekend shoppers and damn the lost revenue. He had his own sanity to look after. And of course, the First Edition Freuds.

After a solitude Saturday spent cooped up inside, he had decided to go for a walk outside. Feeling a little adventurous and enjoying how quiet the city streets were, he decided to be somewhat adventurous and strolled down the more infamous streets of Soho. For some reason, the bars and clubs seemed much less daunting in the golden light of a lazy Sunday, almost to the point where they were inviting him in. This was probably why, when he started to feel his mouth wanting of a cool beverage, decided to pop into one of the more pleasant looking establishments.

It wasn’t that he had never been to a strip club before, he had. In his youth he had partook in a handful of nights out on the town, some ending with his university mates ushering them all into whatever club was nearest at the time. That however had felt like a lifetime ago, he having been in his twenties then and now in his forties. The logical side of him tried to trick his brain into taking this little venture as a chance for comparison rather than a want to see exotic men dancing, but in reality, he knew he wasn’t kidding anyone. He felt like a refreshing drink and truth be told, having some entertainment while he did so sounded like a nice idea indeed.

So that is how Mr Fell had found himself in The Geddon for the first time in his life, humble sat at the very back and sipping on a well-made Old Fashioned that he had ordered and that had been given to him by a cute black-haired young man.

He had sat there for twenty minutes or so, sipping on the drink and quietly watching the performance on the stage. Truth be told, he didn’t remember much about the man who had been performing. His stage name had been Bryce or Bruce or something that sounded equally blokeish. He was a stocky fellow, bald, broad build, and what Fell was certain were steroid-induced muscles. There were hoots and whistles from the small Sunday crowed while muscle man did his thing, posing in various positions which highlighted his oiled-up bumps and made his veins visibly pop all over.

While Aziraphale had nothing against men who enjoyed such a thing, it was far from what he had wanted to see and wasn’t filling his mind with desire to see another dancer of the same kind. So, after baldy had finished, Aziraphale politely left enough money to cover the cost of his drink as well as an appropriate tip for the waiter on the table and quietly started to head for the exit.

Just as he was opening the door, a beam of sunlight peeked through the opening and shone straight across to the stage, twinkling like starlight as it reflected off something metallic. Blinking, Aziraphale turned his head to the stage and squinted to see what it was. It was then that his mind went completely blank.

He stood there like a deer stuck in headlights, lamely watching while he still held the door ajar.

At some point he must have closed it and walked back in because before he knew it, he was seated back in his chair with a fresh drink in front of him.

Even to this day, all he could remember was how beautiful the dancer was.

He was tall and thin, attributes enhanced by the seven-inch black heels that he had strapped to his legs, the shiny latex boots laced all the way up to his nimble knees.

He wore a glamorous cocktail dress, all delicate lace and dark sequins. The gown hung from bony shoulders with fine spaghetti straps, flowing down from there to cover him from chest to thighs. And oh, what magnificent thighs they were, thin and tight and torturing Mr Fell from under those fish net stockings. The dress was covered in little black sequins, each one shimmering and shaking as the slender body moved.

Delicious body and gorgeous outfit aside, the man was truly a vision to behold. The way he danced was borderline pornographic to say the least. He moved as if he had no bones at all, flesh limber and flexible as he rolled his narrow hips and strutted across the stage. He circled around the dancing pole, stroking it lightly like a lover as he closed in on it, pressing his body to it like he was joining a playmate in the sheets.

Above everything else, the man’s face was the most beautiful thing that Aziraphale had ever seen in his entire life. He was so sure of this that he swallowed each and every time he looked up to it, even when there was nothing for him to push down his throat. The dancer’s features were perfect. High cheekbones and defined chin, almost as if he had been sculptured from marble. More than that, there was the wild mane of hair that streamed from his head, bright red and as hot as hell itself. The way the long curls caressed his bare arms and bounced when he stepped, oh how it amazed the blonde how something could be so sexy yet cute at the same time.

This wasn’t even mentioning the eyes, had we mentioned the eyes?

The lithe dancer’s eyes were unlike anything in the world. Bright yellow gold with slitted pupils, just like a wild cat or a deadly serpent. It was clear of course that he was wearing contact lenses, but that fact hardly mattered much because the result was absolutely breathtaking. So much so that before long, the shy blonde bookworm had to remind himself to take a breath lest he pass out from lack of oxygen.

When the gorgeous ginger had finished his routine, Aziraphale was fumbling to get his wallet out and before he knew it, he had pushed a hundred pound note into the waiter’s hand, requesting that it be given to the dancer. Before the waiter could even thank him, he was out of the door in a whirl of cream and tartan, rushing away before he embarrassed himself beyond repair.

And just like that, Azirapahale was hooked.

……….

Every Sunday now, he rocked up to the club at the same time, ordered the same drink and squirmed in his seat waiting for the redhead to dance.

Of course, he now knew the ginger as Serpentarius, a rather fitting stage name if he thought so himself.

Serpentarius was like crack to Aziraphale, luring him back every week for more and more and each time making him that little bit more addicted. Throughout the week he found himself craving those bony hips, that slender waist. Wishing that he was watching that fiery hair flip and flounce instead of watching customers meander through his bookshop. He lived on daydreaming about the dancer, smiling brighter the closer it got to the next Sunday afternoon.

As the weeks passed, he did find himself making some slight changes to his routine. For example, he now brought a book with him so he could read while he waited for the redhead to start as he quickly found out that he had no desire at all to watch anyone else on the stage. The latest edition to his routine was the headphones. It dawned on him one Sunday that he really did not care for the loud B-bop music that they played in the club and he was even less fond of the wolf whistles and obscene remarks that were shouted out by the other patrons. If he had any choice in the matter, he would much prefer no rude words to be called out to his favourite dancer in the first place, but it was certainly not his place to do anything about that. So, he figured that the next best thing was to just block out the unpleasantness altogether.

So now armed with his mobile and set of headphones, he would securely cover his ears with the padded cups and would play a list of soothing classical music. Yes, that was much better to listen to while he watched the seductive serpent dance. Oh, how lovely it was when that belly would sway along with violins. How very right it was when high-heeled feet would tap the floor in sync with cymbals clashing. Yes, this was how he liked it to be.

It was perfect. _Serpentarius was perfect._

And every time afterwards, right on cue, Mr Fell would hand over a hundred-pound tip, dashing out of the door before the ginger could properly see him.

This is how he liked it and he had no intentions of changing that.

Or so he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Serpentarius, otherwise known as Crowley.
> 
> The best dancer to ever work at Armageddon and the current star of a certain blonde's wet dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows Crowley's PoV and provides some backstory to his life.
> 
> The end of the chapter brings us up to present day for both Crowley and Aziraphale.
> 
> Enjoy reading.
> 
> Love you, you ineffable nerds. 
> 
> <3

Anthony J. Crowley, otherwise known as Serpentarius, was the crowning glory of the Soho club scene. Well, he used to be. He was a hot commodity in the 2010’s and was the first and greatest dancer that ever graced the stage of Armageddon.

When Crowley was young, he did as many aspiring youths did and had traded in the clear skies of a childhood home for the smog of the big city. As soon as he was of legal age, he had hopped on a bus with nothing but a backpack and got the hell of the small country town which he had called home for eighteen years. It wasn’t that Tadfield wasn’t a nice place, it was. With its picturesque scenery and enchanting woods, it was almost the perfect place. Perfect for children and senior citizens that is. Crowley could not have asked for a better place to have grown up, but now that he had just stepped over the threshold of adulthood, he was itching to get somewhere bustling and exciting and full of flashing neon lights.

When he had first arrived in London, he hadn’t had any sort of plan whatsoever. Something within his naïve young mind told him that all he had to do was get to the big smoke and then he would take it from there. Long story short, that is how Crowley had found himself working as a waiter at some random club that wasn’t worth remembering the name of. It was there that he had met the notorious Lucius Montgomery. Lucius was older than him, roughly twenty years his senior, but he was classically attractive and in rather good shape. Personally, Crowley preferred older men and it didn’t take long for the two of them to hit it off.

Lucius was tall, handsome, rich and American. From his rock-hard abs to his dazzling charm, there was not much to hate about him. Lucius was the kind of bloke that everyone instantly fell for, romantically or otherwise. His blinding charisma was most certainly one of the reasons why he was so successful in what he did, the other major factor was his bank balance. The Montgomery family came from old money, vast money. Unlike Crowley, when Lucius had come of age, he also came into a six figured trust fund, an upscale New York estate and of course, a Lexus. Backed by his wealth and a degree from Harvard Business School, Lucius was released across the world with a burning ambition to prove that he was more than just a rich white boy with a notable name. So, over the decades that is exactly what he did.

By the time he was hitting forty, he had built his real-estate empire to the point where he was finally allowing himself to have a well-deserved break. With no penny spared, he roamed the world in luxury, sampling the flavours of every capital city he came by. He hadn’t planned on staying at any one particular place for more than a month. That was, until he met a certain redhead. 

Lucius liked Crowley, a lot. Not only did he like Crowley, but he liked _himself_ with Crowley. Being with Crowley was like running free and wild alongside a sleek black stallion. There was just something about those mischievous eyes and devilish smirk that had him craving more. And so, Lucius stayed in London for two months, then three then four. Before they knew it, Crowley had quit his job and Lucius had bought an apartment in Mayfair. For a whole year they both lived in the fantasy land of a never-ending holiday where they could simply do as they pleased without any mind to consequence.

After a year in paradise, Lucius started to feel the old itch of wanting to get back to work, so he dove back in with a fresh new investment. Having loved the Soho nightlife so much, he decided on purchasing a little run-down bar which was on its last legs. Together, he and Crowley worked on gutting it out and created their own version of the perfect gay strip club and called it Armageddon.

When The Geddon first opened, Crowley immediately jumped at the chance to be an exotic dancer. He had secretly always envied those gorgeous beings who moved so gracefully and sinfully around the poles and oh so wished to be one of them himself. So, with hard work, dedication and a hell of a lot of dancing lessons, Crowley became the most skilled and sexiest stripper in all the United Kingdom.

……….

As the years went by, Lucius started to gain more business around Europe and as it often did, his work life slowly began to overtake his personal life. Eventually Lucius moved on from London, leaving The Geddon and Crowley along with it. He had left the apartment in Mayfair to Crowley, continuing to pay for its upkeep and maintenance. He still owned Armageddon, not willing to sell it even when it showed less than viable profit.

So, even though Lucius was not there, he kept a single rope tied to Crowley and to The Geddon. He would always look back on his time there with fondness and he could not bear to completely leave it behind. Being the international jetsetter he was, every once in a blue moon he would spare a weekend to pop back to London, to his favorite club and his favorite redhead. He and Crowley would enjoy a few blissful days together and then would ultimately return to the real world and the responsibilities harbored there.

Crowley cherished these rare days with Lucius. Not just because he got to see his illusive lover but because it reminded him of the past. It reminded him of a time when he was young and desired, a time when he was at the top of his game and everyone either wanted to be him or be with him. Now that he was pushing thirty-five, his career was on a vague saunter downwards. He had already been moved from the Friday and Saturday night shifts and was left with Sundays and a few weeknight spots. Truth be told, it was starting to get a bit depressing. As such, Crowley found himself always waiting, hoping, wishing for the next time he would get a glimpse of Lucius and the dream he once lived.

And wasn’t that just a little sad?

……….

Crowley loved The Geddon to bits and enjoyed every moment of performing there. Although lately it had started to feel like The Geddon wasn’t loving him back in return. Not only had he been moved to less favorable time slots, but the customers were seemingly less impressed with his work and he suspected that the other dancers did not like him very much at all. It sort of started to feel like he was a dying flower. An English rose once in bright bloom, now wilted and browning at the edges, solemnly waiting for that fatal snip of the secateurs.

He was mentally preparing himself to take the leap and just quit the scene all together when suddenly something miraculous happened. He was given a tip. This wasn’t just any tip, no, this was a fresh and crisp one hundred dollar note. Someone out there amongst the alcohol and dim lighting enjoyed his dance. Enjoyed his dance so much that they were willing to part with that much money.

When he had asked Eric who it was from, the sexy waiter had simply shrugged and nodded over to the back of the club.

“Some new guy. Quiet, blonde, pretty cute actually. He dashed out of here like two seconds ago” Eric said, giving a little laugh at the memory of how bashful the man had been.

“Huh, weird… not got a tip like this for yonks” Crowley said, staring down at the money in his hand.

“Guess there’s a guardian angel looking over you” Eric said in jest before sauntering away.

“Yeah, guess so” Crowley nodded.

……….

Over the next half a dozen weeks, it was like Crowley was having new life breathed into him.

Every Sunday, come rain or shine, Crowley would dance and each time, Eric would ferry over the generous tip from his anonymous admirer. The money was nice, it was a decent amount, but it came as a bonus to what the real gift was, the feeling of being _wanted._

Between the poor shifts and the lack of Lucius’s presence, Crowley had forgotten what it felt like to be wanted. To be ogled at with genuine desire and to be a regular need in someone’s life. He had missed how that felt, and it felt _nice._

Crowley had tried to steal glances at this mysterious man, peeping out from backstage and peering over while he was performing. With the man sitting so far down the back and the lights being so dim, it was hard for Crowley to truly get a good look at him. What he did manage to see was a figure sitting with perfect posture and a clean beige coat, any finer details were a struggle to make out. He always did see the blonde hair though. Those wispy blonde curls always stuck in Crowley’s mind. Where the man sat, there was a small light on the wall behind him and shone just enough light to cast over those fluffy locks, making the blonde hair glow to the point it almost looked white. When Crowley thought about it, he could not help but smile. This man was indeed an angel, halo and all.

And It was all thanks to this angel that Crowley was getting his groove back.

He felt empowered each time he walked out onto that stage, just like he had years ago. His heart thumped in his chest, pumping adrenaline through his veins and along his long slender limbs. He strutted with purpose and sashayed with confidence, filled with the knowledge that he was still considered a hot piece of ass.

He stood backstage now, biting the crimson fold of his bottom lip as Randy finished his set and the MC announced that he would be up in five minutes. He smiled to himself, high cheekbones blushed and flat belly nervous.

It was time again to dance for his angel.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley dances on stage with no one but his mysterious angel in mind.
> 
> The two of them finally meet and it is nervous butterflies all around!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy some dancing, some smut and some awkwardness.
> 
> Love you, ineffable nerds! 
> 
> <3

A wash of green light flooded the stage of Armageddon, swimming along with the apple-scented puffs that poured from the smoke machine. Twinkles of white light joined the mix, sparkling from above as the disco ball began to twirl.

The clinking of glasses and idle chatter became clearer while the house music that was playing suddenly stopped. After a few moments, the tunes started back up with a techno remix of the Cake hit ‘Short Skirt, Long Jacket’. The green light intensified as a lithe figure emerged from the shadows, transparent swirls of smoke wisping in the air, parting like the red sea to make way for the determined dancer.

Serpentarius looked incredible. A long black jacket was wrapped around his slender figure, pulled firmly into place by sparkling silver buttons and a secured sash around his waist. His flaming red hair, which usually hung free and wild from his head, was pulled up and neatly pinned into a rolled bun. A pair of black rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his prominent nose, sharp yellow eyes glowing behind the clear lenses. With the confidence of a regional manager walking into the office, he popped his collar and strutted forth on his seven-inch black pumps.

Upon reaching the front of the stage, Sepentarius aggressively tugged at the sash around his waist and popped open the silver buttons, making fast work of flicking his jacket open and propping his slender hands upon his bony hips. He stood proud, lifting his chin up high while he showed off the dress that he was wearing underneath. It was the skimpiest little thing, a short and tight snake skinned number with no straps and which clung to his body like white on rice. To top off his self-assured entrance, he reached up with his right hand and gingerly slid his glasses down to the tip of his long nose. Golden eyes burned a direct line over to the blonde in the back and a slender eyebrow rose in suggestion. He grinned and winked before pushing the glasses back on and turning around with a swish of the coat.

As he walked away from the audience, he made quick work of shrugging off the coat, letting it fall with ease onto the floor. He grinned to himself as he did a little twist down to the floor and then back up again, his soft hands roaming along the texture of the tight dress, groping his own body as it twisted and turned so sensuously. When he was back to a stand, he plucked his glasses off and looked back over his left shoulder, once more flashing a look straight to the blonde while he cheekily placed a temple tip of the glasses to his lips, suggestively giving it a lick and bite.

Without a care in the world, he discarded the glasses onto the floor and sauntered his way back to the front of the stage and took a firm grip of the stripper pole there. With one hand on the pole, he reached back and pulled his hair from the bun. Wild, burning curls of scarlet hair bounced to life while he hoisted one leg up and around the pole, leaning back and swinging freely with his head tossed back.

He performed a few mouth-watering moves around the pole, circling around it like a serpent on a tree branch. He writhed in pleasure, mouth agape and eyelids heavy while he rolled his belly and coiled his limbs, constricting the metallic pole as if it was his lover. Before long, he was mischievously yanking up his dress, hoisting the hem higher and higher until it finally popped over the ripe rump of his tight little ass. He gasped and thrusted his ass out behind him, wiggling it from side to side to show off the black G-string he was wearing underneath. He smiled to himself, being sure to wiggle in the right direction. He wanted his angel to get the best view.

For a moment there he forgot that he was on the stage in front of more people than just the mysterious blonde. He closed his eyes and let out a genuine moan of pleasure while he reached backed and squeezed his own ass cheeks, digging his black nails into the tender skin and etching in some red scratch marks. His upper body fell as he bent by his waist, long hair sweeping the floor while he caressed down his long slender legs. He took a firm grip of his ankles, rocking his hips from side to side in an alluring sway. Bitting the pillow of his lower lip, he whimpered and rolled his body back up, snaping back into a stand and then getting on with the rest of his dance.

Crowley did enjoy dancing. Otherwise what would be the point? He always liked the performance aspect of it all and of course the attention that it earnt him. But for a long time now, he had forgotten that it could actually arouse him. The deeper into the dance he got, the more he could feel his body responding to the mysterious man in the back. He kept thinking about how this man wanted him, craved him so much that he paid a hundred pounds each week, without even a rude comment or an inebriated attempt of taking him home with him. The blonde was being such a gentleman about it all and surprisingly, that turned Crowley on so _fucking_ much.

By the time Crowley had completely stripped off the dress and was now dancing in nothing but his pumps and thong, he was completely hard. He hadn’t been hard during a dance in years and it felt so amazing. He breathed deep as he swirled around the pole, hoisting himself up with his strong arms to perform some more complex manoeuvres. At one point, he let himself fall lazily to the ground, parting his long legs wide and slotting himself into a flexible split on the ground. He tossed his head back, red curls lashing his back while his cock pressed to the hard floor. He gasped opened mouthed at the air, sucking in a few long breaths while he allowed himself several needy ruts.

Eventually, his set was coming to an end and it couldn’t have come at a better time. He was genuinely concerned that he would cum in his underwear right on stage if he went much longer. After the song ended, he did not even wait for the applause, he just made a beeline for backstage, quickly disappearing behind the curtain.

 _“Fuck!”_ he closed his eyes and pressed down on his erection, trying his best not to bust.

This was bad, he thought to himself.

_Very bad._

……….

Aziraphale was a mess.

Aziraphale was more than a mess.

Aziraphale was going to cum in his pants.

Aziraphale mumbled some incoherent words to Eric, thrusting the usual hundred-pound bill into his hand before dashing away. But his time, instead of rushing out the exit, he darted into the men’s bathroom.

Now, usually the pedantic Mr Fell did not like to use public rest rooms. On rare occasions he would use the facilities of more upscale establishments, like when he dined at the Ritz for example. Yes, he was rather comfortable with the cleanliness of the Ritz. Something told him that the bathroom of the Ritz was more sanitary than the best table in some of the dodgier places in London. It would have to be an emergency situation for him to visit the rest room of a seedy pub or club. The blonde was quick to classify this as an emergency.

He barrelled his way into the bathroom, a lace-rimmed handkerchief in his left hand to help him open the doors. He might be heading into the toilet stall of a strip club to masturbate but by George, he does have _standards!_

He locked himself into the furthest away cubicle and made quick work of unbuckling his belt, unzipping his fly and pulling his cock out. He groaned, eyes rolling back into his head as he wrapped his right hand around himself. He was already rock hard and leaking, clear precum already beading on the tip. With a content sigh, he thumbed over the plump head and used the liquid to lubricate his pumps, making them slip and slide with ease.

 _“Fffuuu….”_ He almost swore as he slumped over. With the hanky still in his left hand, he braced himself on the wall with it, his other steadily picking up the pace until he was fucking himself in earnest. With closed eyes, visions of the sensuous dancer flashed before him. He recalled how seductively he had coiled around the pole, how desperate he looked when he rutted onto the ground. And _oh lord,_ he remembered how _large_ the bulge under that G-string was. He had never seen it that big before. Was it always that large? How could he have missed that before? No, it was _definitely_ larger today, harder even. And _oh,_ how that thought did things to him.

His cherubic face screwed up in the most adorable manner as he pumped himself straight to the edge of his orgasm and threw himself over. He gasped, sputtering out some nonsense while he hung his head and painted the wall with his seed.

He stayed there for a couple of minutes, eyes closed and mouth open, cock still in his hand. With a sigh, he tucked himself away and did his fly and belt back up before he grabbed some toilet paper and cleaned off the wall. He winced, self-deprecating thoughts playing in his mind while he cleaned his load off the wall and flushed it down the toilet. With another sigh, he tugged at his waist coat and gave himself a nod before unlatching the lock and exiting the stall.

He only got a few steps out of the cubicle when he stopped again, frozen by the sight he was presented with. There at the row of basins in front of the large mirror was none other than _Serpentarius._ The redhead was wearing a silky red nightgown, leaning forwards and looking into the mirror as he applied crimson lipstick to his thin lips.

_Oh dear._

……….

There was an awkward tension in the air while Crowley rubbed his ruby lips together and Aziraphale just stood there like he forgot how to be a normal human being.

After a few beats, yellow eyes looked over to the blonde via the mirror and those red lips _smiled._

“Ah, was that sound coming from you was it? It’s _divine”_ the redhead spoke, using his most silky-smooth tone of voice.

“Wh-wh-wha… I-I-I’m…” the blonde stuttered while his head filled with blood, pale cheeks burning like wildfire. “Oh!” he suddenly declared, senses coming back to him to make him realise that the music was still playing from his headphones which were now hanging around his neck.

“Ye-ye-yes… indeed… that was… that is my… umm… apologies” he said, promptly removing the headphones and turning them off, stashing them away into the satchel which now hung around his shoulder. The blushing blonde then stepped up to a sink and started giving his hands a good wash, trying to avoid eye contact with the source of his impure thoughts.

“No apologies needed… I rather liked it” Crowley said with a grin. He could not help but stare at the blonde in the mirror while he fished into his makeup bag for his mascara.

Aziraphale just nodded at that, his brain broken and not able to think of something to say. He worried that if he dared to open his mouth, he would say something entirely inappropriate.

Crowley could not help but be amused by the flustered look on the blonde’s face. Eric was right, he is cute, _very cute._ That wispy hair, those chubby cheeks, those sky-blue eyes. He was even more angelic than he could have imagined. Crowley almost felt bad about having basically fucked the floor in front of someone who looked so _innocent._

_Almost._

There were no words while Crowley applied some mascara and Aziraphale dried his hands on some paper towels. Through the silence there were a few looks, curious eyes accidently making contact before darting away again.

Aziraphale was done first and started to head for the door. Just before he left, he stopped for a moment and looked over his shoulder. Blue eyes catching the glint of yellows in the mirror.

“You dance beautifully” he said, soft enough that Crowley doubted if he even heard it at all.

And then he was gone.

Crowley smiled, a warm feeling growing in his chest.

His Angel liked his dance.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next Sunday, Aziraphale seems to be having trouble with returning back to Armageddon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers.
> 
> So, I apologize for the short wordcount of this chapter. I'm rather tired today so I thought I would post up what I have done so far in order to keep the story going. I promise that there will be more exciting Crowley and Aziraphale fun in the next chapter. 
> 
> Hoping you are all well.
> 
> <3 <3 <3

“Told ya… he’s cute, hey?” Eric said, seeing Crowley coming out of the bathroom.

“Yeah, _very”_ Crowley admitted, still surprised at how adorable the flustered blonde was.

“Did he… uh?” the redhead asked, nodding over towards the club’s exit.

“Heh, yeah” Eric giggled, cocking his hip to the side and tilting his head in thought. “Straight out of here like a bat outta hell.”

There was a silent pause as the two of them just looked at the door, thinking. Then Eric gave a pensive hum.

“Soooo…” Eric started back up again. “Was he… um… _you know…_ in there?” he nodded to the bathroom and wiggled his dark eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Crowley stood completely still and shifted his sight onto Eric. Those golden eyes narrowed and _glared_ with intense purpose, a threat even. It wordlessly said ‘go on, I _dare_ you to ask more about that’. Thin red lips were flat and pursed, a quick quirk of amusement flashing on the side. He might not know much about this mysterious angel, but he didn’t have to in order to know that a gentleman like him certainly would _not_ want his dirty laundry washed in public.

Eric must have gotten the hint from Crowley’s hard features because he suddenly swallowed and nervously spattered “a-actually… I better be getting back to work…” Ducking his eyes down, Eric turned and quickly headed for the bar.

‘Yeah you _better_ run, you nosey little beetle’, Crowley thought to himself, continuing the glare for a few more moments.

That warm feeling within his chest returned, the feeling he felt when the angel had said that he danced beautifully. The comforting feeling leaked through his body, making him feel like he was wrapped in a warm fluffy blanket. It was a weird sensation, a feeling that he had not felt in an awfully long time. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to please this blonde gentleman as well as protect him.

There had been so much purity within those blue eyes and Crowley didn’t want to tarnish that. Which in itself was an odd thought, because he also wanted to strip naked and grind on the man’s lap.

Hmm… what a strange cocktail of emotions.

……….

The following Sunday, right on time, a timid bookshop owner came walking through the streets of Soho. With his brown leather satchel hung around his shoulder and a hundred-dollar note in his wallet, he was all ready to go.

So why did he walk straight past The Geddon?

He internally cursed at himself and kept walking until he reached the curb at the corner of the block. He sighed, turned around and frowned.

After standing there for a few moments, he gripped the strap of his back, took a deep breath in and tried marching down the street back towards The Geddon with intention of walking straight in.

He marched straight past.

If he had been paying any attention to anything outside of his own internal hurricane, he would have noticed that the bouncer standing outside of the strip club was looking confused as fuck.

Ligur, the big, black and intimidating bouncer of Armageddon stood as usual with his feet parted and his burly arms crossed over his chest. His face normally defaulted to ‘don’t fuck with me’ but now it was screaming ‘what the fuck?’

He also thought it was adorably amusing that the short blonde was pacing up and down the street, acting all shy and unsure of himself. He wondered what was up because for the last several weeks said blonde would just scurry in and out without a peep. Something clearly had this little mouse shook up.

With a frown on his face, Ligur subtly turned his face and gave his armpit a sniff. ‘Nope, not that’ he thought to himself.

He was starting to think that maybe he should ask if the man was okay when the handheld radio clipped to his belt buzzed. Keeping his eyes focused on the odd blonde who was seemingly talking to himself on the corner, he brought the radio to his ear.

“What?!”

……….

“Don’t be such a _wimp,_ Aziraphale! You can _do_ this!” Mr Fell talked to himself while he also metaphorically kicked himself.

“You’ve done this before… just walk right in, sit down, no problem” he said with a bit more conviction, nodding his head along with his affirmations.

“Right, yes, let’s go!” he gave one more final nod before he headed back towards The Geddon, more determined this time around.

The closer he stepped to the doors, the more he could feel that uncomfortable knot starting in his stomach again. Hands gripping tight around the leather strap while his fight or flight instincts came out to play once more.

When he started walking past the liquor store next to Armageddon, he started to really freak out. Visions of last week started to flash before his eyes again. He had felt mortified that he had done what he had in the bathroom and even more appalled at the prospect that Serpentarius might have heard him doing the unspeakable thing he had done. Every time he thought about it, his cheeks warmed and his head spun. If it wasn’t for the idea of getting to see the gorgeous redhead again, he would have most certainly stayed home all together.

As it turned out, he _really_ was addicted.

With a panicked flush, he was just about to chicken out and rush straight past the doors again when suddenly an exceptionally large, dark shadow loomed over him. He stopped in his tracks and swallowed nervously as he lifted his innocent blue eyes, trailing them over the muscly physique of The Geddon’s burly door man.

Before Aziraphale could even think let alone speak, he was being herded into the strip club like a lamb to the slaughter.

The little lamb sputtered out every variant of apology he could think of as the big bad wolf not only brought him into the club but ushered him through a series of corridors which he had not noticed before now.

In the blink of an eye, he was pushed into a dark room, the door quickly shut and locked behind him.

_Oh, bother!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is locked in a back room of a Soho strip club and has no idea what is about to happen.
> 
> Don't worry, Crowley is there to explain what is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the lovely comments, you are all giving me some wonderful motivation to continue with this story. 
> 
> I hope that you all enjoy this instalment.
> 
> <3 <3 <3

“This is absurd!” the frantic Mr Fell called out, thumping his fists against the inside of the locked door. “You can’t _do this_ you… you… _you animal!”_

“Animals don’t lock each other up in mysterious back rooms, Angel. Only humans do that” a sultry voice called from behind him.

 _That voice_ Aziraphale thought to himself, neglecting the fact that voice called him Angel. _That voice sounds so familiar. It’s so silky, so smooth. It’s…_

 _“Serpentarius”_ he said, not sure if he was stating a fact or asking a question.

Suddenly a switch was flicked somewhere in the dark and a warm illuminance filled the room. Aziraphale turned and blinked pale lashes, bright blue eyes adjusting while he took in his surroundings.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Maybe a grey office or a concreate cell where mob bosses interrogated their targets. The more he thought about that, the sillier he felt because the reality was far, far from the truth of the current situation.

Aziraphale was in some sort of private room. With a comfortable corner lounge, a private dance floor with a pole and small bar to the side, it looked like a miniature version of the club. It looked comfortable and clean, a little secret paradise away from the rest of the world. Blue eyes scanned the room and then finally came to the star feature, Serpentarius.

The slender stripper was standing tall and confident as always, seven-inch red pumps boosting him high above the shorter gentleman. Matching red fishnets stemmed up along flawless legs until they disappeared under a silken robe, the same one that he had been wearing in the bathroom the week before. His hair was down, and his makeup was perfect, all crimson lips and winged eyeliner, beautifully enhancing the sharp angles of his voguish face.

“Oh, _good lord!”_ the surprised blonde said while his eyes took in the alluring vision, sweeping down and up the gorgeous ginger.

The redhead simply grinned, thin lips quirking up at the side and a slender eyebrow lifting upwards in an amused fashion.

“I mean, I-I-I… n-n-not that this isn’t… I mean, you look… _oh my,_ I do think there has been a horrible mistake” the blonde was babbling now, cheeks flushed and breath quick. It wasn’t hard to see that the blonde was mere moments away from self-imploding, so the redhead decided to try to defuse the panic. Even though it was the cutest panic attack imaginable.

Crowley gracefully lifted his hand up and spoke softly yet with conviction. “No mistake. Please sit, make yourself comfortable” he then motioned to the suede couch before he turned to inspect the bar.

The befuddled blonde looked back and forth between the redhead and the locked door behind him a few times before letting out a sigh and then resigning to go sit on the couch. He looked most out of place and uncomfortable as he set his bag down by his feet and then placed his hands in his lap. The couch was rather soft and cosy, but he sat still and upright, fingers fidgeting with worry.

 _I shouldn’t be here_ he kept thinking over and over again, eyebrows pushing together and sight intent on not leaving the floor. _I should be at that little table in the back, where it is quiet and no one can notice me and I have my music and my-_

“Old Fashioned?” Serpentarius said.

Aziraphale blinked, the words bringing him out of his internal spiral.

“Pardon?” he asked.

“I said, Old Fashioned?” the redhead repeated while he held out a drink for the blonde.

When Aziraphale didn’t act to take the drink, Crowley frowned and said “Oh _shit,_ sorry. I asked Eric and he said it was your favourite. Give me a sec, I can make anything –“

“Oh no no no!... I mean _yes!_ It is my favourite” the blonde was quick to say, the worried look on the ginger’s face enough to snap him out of it. “Old Fashioned, yes. Just the ticket, thank you.” He reached to accept the drink into his shaky hands and brought it to his lips to take a sip.

“Mm! – woah!” He breathed out after taking a sip, squinting at the taste.

“Shit!” Crowley spat out, worried about the reaction. “Did I get it wrong? It’s been ages since I’ve made one. Here, let me – “ he reached out to take the drink back but was stopped by the raise of a less shaky hand.

“No no, you got it right” the blonde was quick to reassure. “Just a little strong is all, most places are a bit stingy with the bourbon.” He laughed and took another sip, this time moaning in soft approval.

 _“Ngk_ – good” Crowley said while he watched the angel sip on the drink and make those wonderful sounds. He suddenly remembered the moans he heard when he had walked into the bathroom last week and he quickly turned around before the blonde could see his blush.

“I um… I apologise for Ligur’s behaviour” Crowley said while he poured himself some water from the bar and then took a sip. His golden eyes flashed at a bottle of wine, but he resisted the urge to pour himself a glass. He tried never to drink while he worked.

“He um… he can be overkill sometimes” he added before draining his glass of water.

“Oh, that” Aziraphale said, making the assumption that Ligur must be the name of the bouncer. “It _was_ a bit of a shock I must admit, but no harm done” he took another sip of his boozy drink before settling it in his lap. He took in a deep breath and let it out as he leaned back into the cushions of the couch and finally started to relax.

When Crowley looked back over, he could not help but smile when he noticed that the angel was getting comfortable. That is _exactly_ what he wanted.

“Good” he said, turning around and leaning back slightly so he was resting his elbows on the small counter of the bar. “I wanted to say thank you, and I thought doing that in here would be a bit better than out there” he nodded his head in the direct of the door and flashed a smile.

“Thank you?” Aziraphale asked, squinting in a confused manner. “For what?”

Crowley smirked and tilted his head to the side, sending fiery waves of shinny hair over his slender shoulder. “Isn’t that obvious?” he asked, lifting himself up from the bar and slowly walking towards Aziraphale with smooth, seductive steps.

“I want to thank you for complimenting my dancing last week” Crowley said, sharp pumps tapping their way towards the worn leather of old brown shoes. “Oh, and for the generous tips that you have been leaving me, of course.” He stopped right in front of the blonde, looking down over the handsome face.

Golden eyes watched with satisfaction as the chubby cheeks bloomed with blushes, pale complexion soon as pink as peonies. It was beyond adorable and perhaps the cutest thing that Crowley had ever seen in this club before. Most men would look at him with lusty, selfish eyes. But this man, this chivalrous angel, looked at him with the brightest baby blues, innocent and pure yet hopeful and wanting for more. Crowley smiled while the blonde babbled some nonsense, trying to find some coherent words to reply with.

“W-w-well, that was… I was just… w-what I mean to say is…” Aziraphale stuttered, clinging to his glass for comfort and taking a deep breath to steady himself. He swallowed nervously and looked up to that gorgeous face above him. “It was a pleasure” he said softly, meaning every word.

The two of them simply stared at each other for a moment, revelling in the fact that they were closer to each other than they had ever been before. This close, they could even smell each other’s scent. Aziraphale had a musky smell, like old books and parchment along with something else, something sweet. Crowley smelt like his favourite perfume, a fruity apple and spice scent which mixed well with the natural oils of his skin. They both breathed in, taking a few seconds to bask in the moment.

Then Crowley reached his hand out, turning his palm up expectantly.

“Give me your phone” he said with a smirk.

“P-pardon?” the blonde blinked, thinking that he must have heard wrong. Why on Earth would Serpentarius want his phone?

“Or we can use mine” Crowley continued, enjoying the baffled look on the blonde’s face a little too much. “I don’t mind really. We can plug into yours or plug into mine, I’m fine with either.” The redhead winked before he turned and stepped over to a small table where the outlet to the stereo system was. He then proceeded to make a show of shoving the end of the cable into his phone.

Aziraphale froze, like an overworked computer. His poor innocent mind was trying hard to keep up with the sexual innuendo. He made a few weird noises and then drank deep from his glass, swallowing a few mouthfuls at once.

Crowley resisted the urge to laugh, which he might have done if he wasn’t so worried about scaring the angel away completely. Instead, he just busied himself with flicking through his phone and hitting a few buttons until there was some smooth jazz music playing through the speakers around them.

“Other than that beautiful classic number I heard last week; I wasn’t sure what kind of music you like. Is this alright?” he asked, looking over to the blonde and trying to read the expression on the soft face while the sultry voice of Peggy Lee started to sing _never know how much I love you, never know how much I care._

Aziraphale’s brain froze again, leaving his body to simply swallow and nod lamely in affirmation. The music was indeed pleasing, much more so than the loud, new-aged bebop that usually played in the club. The sensuous melody suited the redhead to a tee and did well to add to the seductive ambiance that was steadily mounting. As if reading his mind, the lights started to dim down until it was nothing but a warm glow, a simulated candlelight effect if ever he saw one. With another nervous swallow, he looked over just in time to see Serpentarius opening his robe.

……….

The leggy dancer was standing across the room with his back to Aziraphale. Warm orange light flickered over the silky fabric of the red robe while he slowly untied the sash and peeled the garb from his slender shoulders. The shimmering material came free, falling from his lithe frame and pooling onto the floor in a shiny crimson puddle.

Sharp black nails gleamed as he reached back, digging fingers into his long red hair and lifting the mane up above his head. With a turn to his head, his smirk brushed a now bare shoulder while he let the blonde take in the sight. He knew how fucking amazing he looked in the red lingerie and gladly enjoyed the attention it earnt him.

His outfit consisted of lacey red garters, a matching thong and little red tassels which were hiding his nipples. The garter belt was a dainty thing, secured firm around the smallest part of his waist to accentuate just how thin he is. From the belt, scarlet straps hung down, connecting the belt to the tops of the fishnet stockings. Crowley loved this outfit and by the look on his face, so did the angel. Crowley’s smirk grew while he turned around slowly, giving the blonde a better look at his front and those teasing little tassels. He filled with self-pride, quite satisfied with the reaction he was getting. So, with a happy shake of his slender hips, he released his mane of fiery hair and strutted with purpose towards the stripper pole.

As he always did, he moved like the serpent of Eden, sensuously coiling around the pole, grinding himself against the hard, cool metal. He bit the plump pillow of his lower lip while he gripped the pole with his palms, stroking it long and slow while he squatted down and then back up, arching his back and rolling his hips as he did so. Mid-action, he heard a weak moan coming from the blonde and grinned to himself. He wondered for a moment if the angel always made these sounds when he watched him dance. He pictured the shy man moaning, nervously sipping his drink while he watched the exotic Serpentarius at work. The thought filled Crowley with pleasure, enough to elicit a moan from his own thin lips while he closed his eyes and tossed his head back, whirling his red curls behind him and shaking them like wildfire.

Crowley slipped into a delightful daze, his mind sinking steadily into a state of pure bliss. His lithe body moved on its own volition, muscle memory taking over to perform his more sensuous moves. When his mind finally started to come back, he was melting down the pole, sinking onto the floor where he knelt on his knees and parted his thighs. He flipped and open his mouth, golden eyes flashing over to the blonde to see how he was doing. He was not disappointed by what he saw.

Aziraphale was sat completely still, jaw slack and eyes glued to the dancer. His drink was still in hand but hadn’t been sipped for a while, wet condensation dripping down his fingers and onto his beige trousers. There was a look of complete astonishment plastered across his soft angelic face. Chubby cheeks were blushed pink, blue eyes wide and round. He sucked in a breath when Crowley looked straight at him, like he had been caught off guard, like it was a naughty, sinful thing that he was watching even thought that was the sole reason for even coming to Armageddon in the first place.

They kept eye contact for a moment, simply looking at each other while they listened to the song end. The music faded away into nothing and then was reborn, sweet Peggy started singing again _you had plenty money, nineteen twenty-two._

A breath hitched in Aziraphale’s throat and Crowley grinned.

Like a jaguar prowling through the jungle, Crowley crawled on all fours, holding the intense eye contact while he stalked his way over to the conservative blonde. He moved like liquid sex, all slender limbs and flawless skin. In all his flexible glory. He slinked over to his generous angel and then knelt right in front of him.

At the feet of the cherub, Crowley parted his thighs sinfully wide and leaned all the way back, brushing his nails slowly up along his body while he arched his back in a glorious show, proving how very limber his lanky body is. He closed his eyes and basked in the palpable wave of lust that came rushing from the blonde, crashing over his skin like frothy water upon sandy shores. Drunk on the feeling, Crowley combed those glassy nails through his long silky hair as he lifted back up from his arched glory. With a content sigh, he then reached forwards and touched his slender hands to those worn leather shoes in front of him.

Aziraphale gasped, hands suddenly shaking while the ginger goddess started to climb up his legs. The rattling of ice in his glass soon stopped, silenced by Crowley taking it in hand, removing it from the equation and setting it safely to the side. Aziraphale swallowed, not too sure what to do with his hands now. He licked his lips and chose to simply lay them on the couch by his sides.

Crowley smirked, bitting back a teasing laugh while he rose and then spun around. Tossing his curls to one side, he bared his back and lowered himself down onto the angel’s lap. He squirmed deliciously, rubbing his rump against the creamy trousers, enjoying the way the fabric felt on his tight ass cheeks. It had been so long since he had given a private lap dance and he had almost forgotten how _good_ it felt. It felt so right, _so very right_ and he closed his eyes to simply home in on the feeling and enjoy it while he could.

Crowley was quickly sinking back into that delightful state of mind where nothing but pleasure existed when he suddenly heard something that brought him back to reality.

 _“Ophiuchus!”_ the word was gasped by the gentleman behind him.

Crowley blinked and turned his face slightly, flicking a look back at those baby blues. “What did you say?” he asked, unsure if he actually heard what he thought he heard.

“Your freckles” the blonde started speaking again, his voice less shaky now and more certain of itself. “The ones on your back. They look like Ophiuchus, the star constellation otherwise know as…”

 _“Serpentarius”_ they both said at once.

It was Crowley’s turn to be caught of guard now, but in the most pleasant way possible. He wore a genuine smile while he turned around and took a proper seat on the blonde’s lap, straddling him with open thighs and sliding his long arms around the broad shoulders.

“How do you know about the stars, Angel?” he asked, curiosity shining bright in golden orbs while he teased the back of the blonde’s neck with his fingers.

“I, um…” Aziraphale blushed, embarrassed by being called Angel again. His lower lip wobbled a little with nerves until he sucked on it and started again with a bit more confidence. “I like to read” he continued.

“I remember seeing it somewhere. One of the books in my astrological section I believe.” He thought about it for a moment before nodding “yes, yes. I believe it was simply called _Constellations: The Star Patterns of the Night Sky_. Yes, that was it, I’m quite sure of it.” He smiled with fondness as he talked, his rigid body noticeably relaxing under the weight of the redhead.

“Yes, Ophiuchus, formerly known as Serpentarius. The _serpent-bearer_ I believe. A beautiful pattern, though I have never seen it with my own eyes. The light pollution in London is quite horrible, can barely see a handful of stars in the sky these days. And now that I think about it, I’m not even sure if the snake bearer can be seen this far north. I would have to refresh my memory on the subject if I’m being completely hon –“ he looked at the man in his lap and suddenly became aware that he was babbling.

“Oh! Oh, I am sorry dear boy, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to – “

“It’s okay” Crowley smiled, his face glowing with amusement.

“It’s rather adorable actually” his smile turned into a smirk as the blonde blushed from the compliment.

“You are right of course” Crowley continued to speak, his voice taking on its neutral everyday tone as opposed to the sultry one he saved for when he stripped.

“It’s always been there; on my back I mean. My mother recognised the pattern when I was little” he smiled fondly; eyes glassy as he reminisced. “She is a hobby stargazer you see. I think she wanted to be an astronomer when she was young, but popping out children sort of put a stop to those plans, I think. A shame really, she is rather sma – “ he blinked, cutting off his own words when he realised that he was the one now babbling.

 _Oh shit, am I really talking about my mother?_ he asked internally, mentally bashing himself for talking about his childhood at work. This poor man, he didn’t want to hear about his bloody mother! He wanted to sit in peace and enjoy a drink and a strip show, not to hear about the childhood of a Soho stripper. But then again, why was he looking at him with such genuine interest?

Crowley suddenly wanted nothing more than to kiss this adorable, intelligent, chivalrous angel.

“Um” Crowley said, uncoiling his arms from around the blonde’s neck and reluctantly lifting himself off the warm lap.

He noticed then that the music was onto the next song now, playing more soft jazz that filled the room with its calm melody. This was turning out to be one of the longest private session that he had ever done. He swallowed and plucked up the neglected cocktail glass.

“Another drink, Angel?” he asked, turning to the bar and busying himself with making another Old Fashioned, just so he could hide his face and busy his hands.

“Oh, ah, no thank you" the blonde said, standing up from the couch and brushing down his waist coat. “I, I think that I have taken up enough of your time this afternoon. I would not want to keep you from your... your work” he said and then looked down while he instinctually went to pull his wallet from his pocket.

“No!” Crowley said a little too loud when he turned to see the blonde was plucking out another one of those crisp hundred-pound notes. Blue eyes blinked, uncertainly flashing within as the angel looked over, worried that he had done something wrong.

“I mean, no thank you” Crowley said, this time with a softly reassuring voice. “This was my treat. A thank you, remember?” he smiled.

Aziraphale nodded, a small smile of his own gracing his pouty lips while he pushed the money back in and returned his wallet to his pocket.

“Well, it was very much appreciated, thank you” he said before reaching down and grabbing his bag, swinging the leather strap over his shoulder.

“You always dance so beautifully” he smiled, rosy cheeks lifting.

“So I’ve been told” Crowley said with a wink before walking to the door and unlocking it with a flick of a latch, opening it up and stepping to one side.

“It was a pleasure” Crowley said, holding the door open for the blonde.

“Likewise,” Aziraphale said as he walked to the door. He stopped for a moment near the doorway and looked up to Crowley’s beautifully angular face. He smiled softly and reached out, carefully and slowly caressing his thumb over a high cheekbone in order to brush a stray curl behind the ginger’s ear.

 _“Ngk”_ the redhead said and swallowed nervously.

“Mind how you go” the blonde whispered and then disappeared out the door.

Crowley sighed out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding in.

Well, that was something else.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sunday after the sensuous private dance, Aziraphale has a chat to his friends and Crowley waits for his angel to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm sorry.
> 
> I'm so sorry for this chapter, but I promise things will perk up again soon.
> 
> Enjoy, you ineffable nerds.
> 
> <3
> 
> CW: some sex work shaming in this chapter.

“Somewhere you need to be, love?” The woman with puffy red hair asked.

“Hm?” Aziraphale hummed and flushed with embarrassment from the question. It was not the first time he had checked his watch and his friend was evidently starting to catch on.

“Your watch, dear” Tracy continued to drive the subject on, nodding her head towards his left wrist. “That’s gotta be the tenth time you’ve looked at it in the last five minutes!” she giggled.

“W-w-well… _surely_ it’s not been that many ti – “ Aziraphale began to defend himself before his other friend put in her two cents.

“No, Tracy’s right” Anathema perked up. “Are we boring you already, Mr Fell?” she asked and flashed a teasing smile his way.

“Oh, _really?!”_ the conservative blonde took mock offence, pressing his palm to his chest in a mark of sincerity. “I shall _never_ bore of your company, ladies. Even when you have both had _more_ than enough mimosas for one day.”

In fact, all three of them had drank enough mimosas for a week if any of them were going to be honest about it. They had met at a local café for a Sunday brunch which had soon become lunch and was now threatening to merge into afternoon tea as well. Every now and then they would earn themselves a glare or a roll of the eyes from the wait staff, who would reluctantly come when called and refilled their glass flutes.

“Well they shouldn’t put bottomless mimosas on the menu unless they are prepared to face the consequences” Tracy took the bait of the subject change and sipped her drink.

Much to Aziraphale’s dismay, Anathema was not so easily distracted. 

“Oh no you don’t” she frowned, lifting a slender finger and wiggling it at him with the powerful accusation of a schoolteacher catching a student smoking in the lavatory. “You don’t get away with this _that_ easily. Now, _spill the beans!”_

……….

“Darlin’, you really shouldn’t do this again, Hastur will – “ Eric started up, standing in the doorway to the private dance room.

“Hastur can fuck right off!” Crowley snapped, not looking up while he sliced up an orange at the small bar. “He wouldn’t even be the manager of this joint if I hadn’t put in a good word for him to Lucius all those years ago. Ungrateful fucking toad!” he grimaced, stabbing the fruit a little too hard.

Eric sighed and crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.

“I know love, I know” the ebony beauty said. “But Lucius is not here now and it’s not gonna go well for you if you keep giving private dances for free. You know that, yeah?”

It was Crowley’s turn to sigh, placing the knife down and finally looking up to Eric.

“I know. You know I know. Look, I’m sure he will probably offer me another hundred today. I’ll just give it all over to Hastur, that should shut him up for a while.” Crowley said, lifting orange-scented fingers up to comb through his lengthy red hair.

Eric watched, just staring for a moment with a look on his face that said _I sure hope so, for your sake._

“Okay” Eric finally verbalised, standing up straight. “I’ll give you a heads up when I see your _Angel.”_

“Thanks Eric, you’re a dime a dozen” Crowley flashed an award-winning smile.

“Eh, yeah yeah, whatevs” Eric laughed, sauntering away.

……….

“So, let me get this right” Tracy said, leaning back in her chair and readjusting one of her scarves. “You have been going to a strip club every Sunday for the last seven weeks?” she asked, trying to imagine the quite bookshop owner walking into any such a place.

“Correct” Aziraphale said, nodding his head in a clinical fashion.

“To watch the same dancer every time?” she asked.

“Correct” he nodded again.

“And you spent _how much?”_ she said.

“Eeerrmm… you _don’t_ want to know” he said, looking down at the table.

“Uh, I _absolutely_ want to know!” the redhead said, crossing her arms expectantly.

“Ahundredpoundseachweek” he said softly and fast.

“What was that?” Anathema asked.

“A hundred pounds each week” he said clearly and then sighed, ashamed of himself.

“A hundred each week!” Anathema exclaimed. “So, you have spent _seven hundred pounds_ on this floozy?”

“Don’t say floozy” Aziraphale scrunched his face up like he had a bad taste in his mouth. “And not exactly. Last week he wouldn’t accept the money.”

“Why not?” Anathema asked.

Aziraphale tilted his head gently and gave a soft smile “he said it was his treat, as a thank you to me.”

“I see” Anathema said.

“Hmmmm” Tracy hummed in thought.

There was a thick silence in the air while they all thought about what had been said. They all drained the last of their drinks and had the staff come around to top them up.

“I’m in over my head, aren’t I?” Aziraphale said once the waiter had disappeared.

“Well…” Tracy said, still thinking. “Whatever it is, it sounds like you are having fun, which is good, _but…”_

“It’s not going to be good for you in the long run” Anathema finished that thought, Tracy nodded in agreement.

Aziraphale sighed, his shoulders slightly slumping and his head bobbing along in defeat.

“I know. I guess I wasn’t thinking about the long run, I was just caught up in the moment” he sighed again and lifted his now full glass, inspecting it thoughtfully. “I guess there is no real future in it, is there?” he asked himself as much as he asked his two friends and then drank from the glass.

They all took a few sips and thought about it all. It was a lot of information to take in.

“I think…” Tracy said carefully. “You should maybe give today a miss. See how you feel after not going for a week.” 

Aziraphale frowned, not liking that idea at all but understanding the logic behind it.

“And let’s get you a proper date, yeah?” Anathema pipped up, getting an idea in her head. “I have a friend who knows someone who just came over from the States. Maybe an actual date might be good for you.”

Aziraphale continued to frown, again not liking the idea but understanding the reasoning behind it. The more he thought about it, the more he could see that what he had been doing might be considered a tad unhealthy. Maybe a date _would_ be good for him.

“Alright” he sighed a defeat.

“We just love you Aziraphale, you know that, right?” Tracy said, reaching over to touch the back of his hand.

“We want you to be happy” Anathema added, also reaching over out to caress his other hand.

“I know you do” Aziraphale said, warmth in his heart. “I love you too, both of you.”

……….

 _“Pssst, Eric!”_ Crowley hissed out from the hallway that connected the main club to the private rooms. “Is he – “

“No!” Eric snapped. “For the millionth time, _he is not here yet.”_

“Oh” Crowley said, looking down and then slinking back into the solitude of the private room. 

The tap taping sound of his snake-skinned heels echoed in the room while he walked over and sat himself down on the suede couch, exactly where the blonde angel had sat the week before. The redhead froze, turning in on himself and sitting comatose and still. He just sat there while a whirl of negative thoughts began to rip through his entire being.

About half an hour later, he heard footsteps in the hallway and lifted his golden eyes expectantly. All the hope which was swirling in the yellow orbs were extinguished when he saw Eric.

“Oh, it’s just you” he said, returning his gaze back to the floor directly in front of him.

Eric sighed and came over to sit next to Crowley.

“Look” Eric started, speaking softly. “It’s half four now. I don’t think he’s coming. Even Ligur said he hasn’t seen him on the street.”

Crowley just nodded, not speaking and just pulling his robe tighter around his lithe frame.

“Maybe… maybe he is sick. Or had a family thing, who knows?” Eric tried.

“Yeah…” Crowley nodded, thoughts rolling in his mind. “Maybe… that kind of stuff happens all the time.”

“Yeah, see?” Eric smiled. “I’m sure he will be here next week, just like always.”

“Yeah” Crowley said, still not completely convinced but liking the idea of the angel showing up next Sunday.

“Can you… please tell Hastur I’m going home? Don’t really feel like finishing my shift” Crowley said, feeling anything but sexy right in that moment.

“Of course. You go, I’ll handle Hastur.” Eric said, trying another sympathetic smile before he stood up and walked to the door.

“And hey” Eric said from the doorway. Crowley looked up.

“Everything’s gonna be okay” the waiter said softly.

“Yeah” Crowley replied. “I hope so”

……….

The following Sunday, a rather anxious Aziraphale paced back and forth in his homely bookshop.

The week had been bearable after he had gotten over the initial guilt of not attending the club last weekend but now those feelings were coming back to him twofold. He wanted to leave the shop. He wanted to run to Armageddon and watch Serpentarius dance. He wanted to _so much,_ but he knew that he shouldn’t.

His friends were right. As much as he loved to bask in the pleasure of watching the redhead dance, he knew that it was ultimately bad for him. He needed a relationship. An actual relationship where he could go on dates and hold hands in public. He wanted to fall asleep next to someone and wake up to morning kisses.

He had thought about the idea of asking Serpantrius out on an actual real life date, but his nervous mind was quick to dismiss that idea. Serpentarius is a beautiful, sexy, skilled exotic dancer. He had everything going for him. He didn’t need some pathetic customer asking him out for tea and biscuits. He probably had some sugar daddy who bathed him in fine champagne and fresh strawberries. No, asking him on a date was simply out of the question.

After pacing for another fifteen minutes or so, he reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and took out a scrap piece of paper. Sad blue eyes washed over the dainty writing of Anathema, the name and number of the supposed ‘hunk’ that she had recommended he call for a date.

After staring at it for a full minute, he sighed and sat down at his desk, lifting the handle of his landline phone up and twirling the dial for the numbers.

“Hello? May I speak to Gabriel please?”

……….

When the blonde angel hadn’t showed up for the second week in a row, Crowley was on the verge of a breakdown.

A full hour after he was supposed to start his shift, he sat in his dressing room, already peeling off his fake lashes and wiping off his makeup.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and in barged a tall gangly man who wore a very unstylish suit and smelt of cheap cologne. An apologetic Eric peeped his head in, shooting a look that wordlessly said _sorry, I tried to stop him’._

“Eric said you are sick again. Funny, you don’t _look_ sick” Hastur said with a glare.

“Sick as a dog” Crowley said and then gave a fake cough. “See, no good, can’t dance, might be the plague.”

Hastur scowled, he never did appreciate humour.

“Get your ass out on stage _now_ princess or you’ll never dance on it again!” Hastur snapped, a vein on his forehead getting comically closer to combustion.

 _“Fine,_ have it your way” Crowley snapped and quickly tossed all his things into his bag and stood up. “I quit!”

Crowley stormed straight past Hastur and out of the club, not even looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Just a side note - Sorry that Tracy and Anathema ended up coming across more aggressive than I was intending them to be. Truth be told, I'm sure that they would be totally fine with sex workers, especially Tracy. I was trying to portray them as being super protective of Aziraphale and it came across a bit too mean. So I apologize about that.
> 
> Love you all! 
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale goes on a blind first date with none other than Gabriel.
> 
> Let's see how this turns out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I may have gotten a little carried away with this because this date has ended up having a much larger word count than I had anticipated. So what I have decided to do is to split it up a bit.
> 
> Most of the date is in this chapter but it will also continue in the next one. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy reading it. 
> 
> Love you, ineffable nerds. 
> 
> <3

Aziraphale was nervous. The kind of nervous that came before any blind date. The only things that he knew about his date for the evening was that his name was Gabriel, he was American, and he was a friend of Anathema’s old college roommate. It wasn’t much information, but it was more than nothing. He remembered one time in his youth when he was set up on a date without knowing anything but a name and a place to meet.

To Aziraphale’s delighted surprise, Gabriel picked him up from the bookshop and drove them both to the restaurant. It had been a few years now since Aziraphale had went on a proper date and even longer since he was picked up and driven there in style. It was a small detail, but there was just something about being driven around and doted upon that was making Aziraphale feel giddy.

As he sat in the silver BMW, Aziraphale could not help but notice how handsome Gabriel was. With his short brown hair and strong jaw, he looked like he had jumped straight from the screen of a Golden Aged Hollywood film. Aziraphale wondered for a moment if their evening was going to entail a mandatory duet and tap-dancing number. That silly thought had Aziraphale smiling sheepishly to himself.

They drove mostly in silence as they made their way through London. Gabriel apparently had something against chatter while he was steering. Not wanting to judge the American too hastily, Aziraphale decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and choose to see it as Gabriel simply being a cautious driver.

When they arrived at their destination, the tall American chivalrously opened the passenger side door for his date and even opened the door to the restaurant as well. Usually Aziraphale would be the one to do such things, so he found it rather amusing that he was the one being attended to.

Sticking true to being a gentleman, Gabriel dealt with speaking to the host, subtly slipping them some money so they got a nice table by the window. A soft blush even started to bloom on Aziraphale’s plump cheeks when Gabriel pulled out his chair for him, neatly sliding it in as he sat down.

“Well, I feel rather spoilt I must say” Aziraphale commented once the host had left them to it, informing them that their waiter would be with them presently.

“Only the best for my handsome date, Sunshine” Gabriel said, flashing a grin that was full of far to straight and far too white teeth.

In response to the compliment and the cute pet name, what was the budding starts of a blush was now bursting in full bloom across Aziraphale’s soft complexion. Shyly, he picked up his menu from the table and held it up in front of his face. He was in the middle on a few deep breaths to settle himself when he suddenly heard a familiar voice.

“Good evening gentlemen. My name is Anthony and I will be your waiter this… this… evening…” the charming voice trailed off as it’s owner started to realise who was seated at the table.

Aziraphale swallowed, lowering the menu just enough so that his wide eyes were peering out over the top. For a moment in time everything froze while clear blue eyes clashed with those of a chocolate brown. _So that is what’s under those contact lenses_ Aziraphale thought to himself, hypnotized by the sight. Neither the redhead nor the blonde took a single breath until the American spoke, snapping them out of their little two-person bubble.

“We will have the twenty fifteen Riesling and some San Pellegrino while we look at the menu” Gabriel said rather matter-of-factly, not even looking up from his own menu.

“Oh!” Aziraphale perked up, caught off guard by Gabriel’s confident words. “That sounds wonderful, but I wouldn’t mind an old – “

“Trust me, Sunshine” Gabriel interrupted. “You’ll like the Riesling.”

“Ah” Aziraphale swallowed, the pet name suddenly feeling bitter rather than sweet. “W-well. In that case, um. Th-thank you, that would be lovely.” He said to Anthony, blue eyes looking back up to find those chocolate browns.

Aziraphale was just _staring_ now. It was so strange to see the dancer outside of the club. Here, the light shone on his make-up free face and his usually wild hair was tamed back into a conservative bun. It was odd to see him like this, but not unpleasant. It felt almost refreshing, seeing the desired Serpentarius in a more natural state.

“Of course,” Crowley said in a neutral tone. “Right away, _Sir”_ He said before he left, leaving the last word to sting into Aziraphale like a nasty little needle.

Aziraphale suddenly felt sick.

Aziraphale felt like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Aziraphale was… not over Serpentarius _at all._

Blue eyes continued to follow the redhead as he left the table and sauntered away to the restaurant’s bar.

 _My god he looks good wearing anything,_ the blonde thought while he stalked the waiter from behind his menu.

Crowley did indeed look great no matter what he wore. All the wait staff were wearing the same outfit. Black trousers, white top, white jacket and black tie. On paper it was a bland, basic sort of outfit which allowed one to merge into the background. But on _Serpentarius,_ well it only highlighted the fact that he had a totally bitchin’ body.

Aziraphale stared without blinking and only broke connection with Crowley’s fine-looking ass when Gabriel’s voice plucked him out of his daze.

“Hmm, sorry, what was that?” Aziraphale asked, lowering his menu and turning his attention back to his date. _Yes, date, yes, I’m on a date, can’t forget that!_

Gabriel audibly sighed, seemingly not fond of having to repeat himself. “I _said,_ do you like fish?”

“Oh yes, quite!” Aziraphale said, his chubby cheeks lifting as he smiled, glad for the distraction. “You know…they make the most _scrumptious_ fish n’ chips down in Brighton. I highly recommend it if you get the chance to go down there.”

“You mean that battered, greasy stuff?” Gabriel asked, making a face of distain as he continued to inspect the menu options.

“Ah, well, yes. I suppose it can be rather greasy sometimes” Aziraphale confessed, tilting his head to the side. “But the taste is _remarkable.”_

“I suppose it would at least be fresh, straight from the source” Gabriel said.

“Yes!” Aziraphale smiled, some rosiness returning to his cheeks. “Indeed, it is. Wonderful selection in Brighton. You should have a look sometime. I mean if you’re ever going that way that is.” The blonde cleared his throat and looked down at his menu, trying to stop himself from babbling on about _fish_ of all things.

“Ah, it’s about time!” Gabriel said as the skinny waiter returned to the table with a tray of drinks in hand. The redhead’s prominent nose twitched with the start of a scowl but was quick to right itself into a neutral state.

“The twenty fifteen Riesling, Sir” Crowley said while he poured Gabriel a sample from the freshly opened bottle and stood tall to wait for the American’s vote of approval. As he waited, his brown eyes flashed to the side, stealing a brief look at the quiet blonde.

Aziraphale pretended to look at his menu, breath quickening as he felt Anthony’s eyes upon him. He swallowed nervously and waited patiently while Gabriel took a tentative sip of the light wine.

“Hmm yes, that is drinkable” Gabriel nodded, not even looking up at the waiter while the redhead nodded and proceeded to fill the glass up to a standard serving and then did the same for Aziraphale. Afterwards, he placed the bottle in an ice bucket and then poured out some of the sparkling San Pellegrino into their water glasses, again leaving the remaining of the bottle for them.

There was one more drink left on the tray, an Old Fashioned. Crowley had a small, knowing smirk on his face while he set the drink down in front of the blonde.

“We didn’t order that” Gabriel said in a low voice, frowning. “Take it away.”

“Oh no!” Aziraphale pipped up quickly. “No, no need to do that. I rather like Old Fashioneds actually, I do not mind, not at all!”

Gabriel continued to frown but didn’t push the matter, simply giving a nod.

“Thank you” Aziraphale said, not looking at either his date or the waiter. The gratitude was really meant for the redhead, but he thought it wise to not let that fact be so obvious.

There was an awkward kind of silence that hovered over the table for a few seconds before Crowley cleared his throat with a deep sound. He was just about to ask the couple what they wanted to order when Gabriel just started talking, listing off items from the menu. With quick hands, Crowley plucked the little notepad from his pocket and started jotting things down.

“We will start with the Waldorf salad, dressing on the side. The salmon for main, medium” The American accent took over the scene, talking at the waiter like he was a Minister dictating to his secretary.

“And no garlic” Gabriel added, smirking over to Aziraphale while he added “bad for the breath.”

Aziraphale’s eyes grew wide in shock. Surprised at the confident way the American just ordered for the both of them and the sheer arrogance of assuming that they would be kissing later. For a moment there, Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he should be feeling flattered or offended. One thing he _did_ know though, he was disappointed in not getting to try the delicious looking lamb ragout that a fellow at the next table was currently enjoying.

“I, I , I am _sure_ that the salmon would be divine b-but I’d –“ the blonde bravely tried to voice his opinion, blue eyes looking dreamily towards the hearty looking dish.

“I thought you said you _liked_ fish” Gabriel said firmly.

“Oh well, I _do,_ but – “

“Then have the salmon. Come on, we can share the experience together” and then the American gave another one of those wide smiles which Aziraphale was steadily beginning to think was secretly out to blind him.

“Um… okay” Aziraphale finally resigned, thinking it wasn’t worth the trouble. He didn’t really mind salmon and the idea of sharing an experience _did_ sound a bit romantic.

 _Romantic…_ the word rolled around inside of Aziraphale’s mind while he sunk back into his chair, shoulders slumping down just a tad. _Serpentarius giving me a personal lap dance was romantic…_ he thought, blue eyes flicking over to watch the redhead scribbling down on the small note pad. _Bringing me an Old Fashioned because he knows it’s my favourite is romantic…_

Aziraphale hung his head down, worrying himself with straightening the napkin upon his lap. He suddenly wished that he was having this date with Serpentarius. _Anthony_ … not Gabriel.

“And for dessert, Sir?” that smooth, lovely voice asked. Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile, beaming with joy as he lifted his head up.

Aziraphale simply _adores_ dessert, he is far more of a sweet person than a savory one. His blue eyes were bright and shiny as he looked up to Anthony, just about to say how much he liked their dessert selection when that arrogant voice beat him to the chase.

“No dessert” Gabriel stated, like it was a fact.

“Oh, but I _really_ \- “ the blonde began to protest, his cherubic face now looking rather distraught.

“Let’s have dinner and _then_ see if you still want dessert, yeah? You might be too full by then” Gabriel said.

Aziraphale tried to hide a snort, ending up with just smiling to himself. _Too full for dessert?_ he thought to himself, _there’s no such thing!_

“Okay, we will see” the blonde ended up saying, only a little smirk at the corner of his lips.

He thought that Gabriel missed his mirth, but the waiter certainly didn’t. Crowley mirrored a smirk with the side of his thin lips as he linked eyes with the adorable blonde. They shared a single moment of understanding before the waiter nodded and headed off to put their orders in with the kitchen.

Again, Aziraphale could not help but watch the redhead move. He could not help but think that this gorgeous siren was the absolute embodiment of the saying _hate to watch you leave but love to watch you walk away._

“So” Gabriel said, sipping on his wine and smiling across the table. “You like books, huh?”

“Oh, _oh yes!”_ Aziraphale was brought out of his little daydream, swallowing nervously and hoping that Gabriel hadn’t noticed where he had been looking. 

“Books, yes. I have always had a great love of books, ever since I was young. There is just something about the written word and the smell of old pages that is just so very comforting” the blonde said, smiling fondly as if he was talking about the love of his life, which in many respects, he was. “I suppose it is no surprise really that I became a bookshop owner. Inevitability at it’s finest” he laughed softly.

Upon realizing that he was babbling on, the adorable blonde gave his hands a dismissive wave and politely said “anyway, that is much of a muchness. What about you, Gabriel. What do _you_ enjoy?” He might have been preoccupied by thoughts of the gorgeous redhead, but he at least had enough manners to be polite to his dinner date.

The two of them talked about this and that, mainly about what they both did for a living and noticeable differences between the UK and the States. It was easy, surface level chit chat that didn’t require much effort or many brain cells. They talked through their first course, Aziraphale having tried not to look too obvious with eyeing the attractive waiter when he dropped off the salad and then retrieved the plates when they were done. They had moved on now to the subject of hobbies when Crowley arrived with their main meals.

“The salmon for you Sir” he offered a fake smile, setting the dish down in front of the American. 

“And my humblest apologies, Sir, but that was the last salmon we had. Could I interest you in the lamb ragout? It is the Chief’s special tonight” he said, turning his attention then to the blonde. It was a subtle shift to his face, but his smile came a little easier and his eyes twinkled just so as he offered the lamb to the angel, waiting for a nod of approval that came less than a second later.

“Oh yes!” Aziraphale nearly shouted in excitement, handsome face beaming with joy and he nodded feverishly. “I-I-I mean oh what a _shame_ about the salmon. But this looks _marvellous,_ thank you so much, Anthony” he said and then blushed when he realised it was the first time he had called Serpentarius by his _real_ name. He gulped and fluttered his pale lashes, bashfully looking up from the delicious looking meal to find the redhead still looking at him, brown eyes shining and thin lips smirking, a mischievous arch to his brow.

“A pleasure” Crowley said sweetly, bowing softly and then excusing himself.

Gabriel was saying something in a low and irritated voice, probably complaining about the lack of salmon or the fat content of lamb. Aziraphale had only known him for a couple of hours now and his guess was pretty spot on. So Aziraphale just nodded and offered sympathetic ‘hmmms’ and ‘oh yes, you’re rights’ while he once more enjoyed the sight of the back of the saucy ginger.

……….

Half way through their mains, Crowley came back to check on the pair, just about to ask them if they were enjoying their meals when a stubby little balding man came marching up, rudely planting himself a little too close to the redhead.

“How is everything, gentlemen? I hope that AJ here has been taking good care of you!” the stubby man said, the glint of a golden tooth making itself known as he flashed a much too wide smile. He sucked in some of his round gut, thrusting his broad chest up so that the light caught on his name tag, highlighting the fact that he was the manager of the establishment. Aziraphale noticed what could be considered a scowl briefly dancing across the waiter’s face at the mention of the nickname ‘AJ’.

“The salmon is adequate, but the _service_ has been less than impressive I must say” Gabriel said, not even making an effort to sugar coat any of his thoughts.

“Oh _dear”_ the balding man said, instantly rolling into an apologetic mode. “I am _so sorry_ to hear that. AJ here is one of our new recruits, not been with us long. I’m _sure_ he will take this as a great opportunity for improvement.” He said and then gave Anthony a glare that said ‘get back to the kitchen and don’t fuck anything else up’.

Just as Crowley was leaving, the manger leaned over with a hand on the back of Gabriel’s chair, pretending to be secretive but speaking loud enough that both Crowley and Aziraphale could hear. “It is unfortunate, but sometimes you have to skimp on smarts in order to get the lookers. Not much to talk to, but sweet on the eyes” he winked and both he and Gabriel shared a laugh.

Aziraphale frowned, dabbing his lips with his napkin and then clearing his throat with a little cough “please excuse me, I need to visit the powder room.”

Gabriel nodded and waved his hand as Aziraphale stood up, continuing to chatter with the manager like they were old mates.

……….

“What the _hell_ are you doing, old chap?” Aziraphale said to himself, looking at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror.

He didn’t reply to himself out loud, but he did sigh and kicked himself internally for ever agreeing to go on this date in the first place. Gabriel was turning out not to be his type _at all_ and it was starting to become debatable if he was even a decent human being. He did have some charm about him yes, but he was also rude, selfish and arrogant to boot. He was nothing like _“Anthony”_ he said to himself and hung his head down, feeling too ashamed to even look at himself anymore.

Serpentarius had never been anything but nice and wonderful to him. He had been sweet, thoughtful and considerate and what had he done to thank such loveliness? _I just disappeared without a word, didn’t I?_ he thought to himself, the realisation hitting him like a tone of bricks. Ever since that talk with Anathema and Tracy, all he had been worried about was himself. He hadn’t even stopped to think about how his absence would be perceived by the redhead. Yes, he was feeling rather ill now.

Just then a toilet flushed and out walked none other but Anthony. All glorious six feet of him with his fiery red hair and his sculptured features.

“I thought I heard my name” he said, keeping his voice cool and casual while he swayed to a basin.

Aziraphale couldn’t help but stare, open mouthed like a fish out of water. When he realised that he was just ogling the man as he washed his hands, Aziraphale sputtered out a combination of syllables before managing to create something that would be considered a coherent statement “I um… oh, I _do_ apologise for my… for Gabriel… and for your manger of course… that, he, _them…_ you do not deserve to be treated like that.”

“Hmm” the redhead hummed, rinsing the suds from his hands and then reaching for a paper towel to dry them. “Interesting that you are apologising on behalf of others but not saying sorry for what _you_ have done.”

 _Wham!_ There went that metaphorical pile of bricks again, right in the stomach.

“I…” Aziraphale started, not quite sure what to say to that. Frankly, he wasn’t sure there was _anything_ he could say to that.

Crowley gave a dark half-laugh and shook his head, tossing the paper towel into the bin. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. Enjoy your date, Angel.” He said, turning to head out.

“I _am_ sorry” Aziraphale said, blurting it out before the moment passed him by. “I am sorry for just disappearing like that. And I am sorry for tonight. They shouldn’t treat you like that. _No one should._ You are too good for that, _too good for them.”_

Anthony stopped for a moment and turned his head as if he was going to say something.

He sighed and then just stepped out, nothing more said.

**...To be continued…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale's date with Gabriel comes to an end, but the night does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the conclusion of Aziraphale and Gabriel's date. Thank you very much for being patient with waiting for the second part of the date, everyone. 
> 
> I hope that you all enjoy.
> 
> Stay awesome, ineffables. 
> 
> <3
> 
> CW: Hints of pressure for sex / sexual assault and fat shaming.

When Aziraphale returned to the table, the main meals had been cleared away and Gabriel sat there alone, sipping on the remains of his wine. There had still been a bit of his lamb left, but Aziraphale guessed that Gabriel did not consider that he had not finished when he had ordered for the table to be cleared. It did irk Aziraphale, but there was also a part of him that was grateful for not having to spend more time with the obnoxious snob.

The blonde made an educated guess that the health conscious American would stick to his guns and say no to dessert, so at best Aziraphale would have to sit through ten more minutes or so of conversation and a hopefully quiet drive back to his apartment above the bookshop where he could revaluate things alone, somewhere warm and cosy with a nice cup of cocoa. Even before the date had started, the conservative blonde had made a pact with himself that he would not go home with his date and lucky for him, Gabriel was not posing any temptation there at all.

“Ah, welcome back Sunshine” Gabriel said, beaming like everything was just dandy.

“Thank you, Gabriel” Aziraphale replied in kind, not giving any reaction to the pet name whatsoever and simply just sitting down and taking a sip of his sparkling water.

“Nice guy, the manager. He said he would comp us your lamb and that random drink that showed up. It’s the least he could do, but still, nice of him to fix _someone else’s_ mistake” Gabriel said, humming while he drained the last of his drink. “Hmm, speaking of which… where is that ginger bimbo?”

Aziraphale frowned, too tired now to even form a fake smile.

Gabriel snapped in the air until eventually a waitress arrived, apology oozing out of her pores.

“Oh, I am _so sorry,_ it seems like your waiter is taking his break. May I be of any service?” the flustered woman asked, doing her best to keep calm and collected.

“’Course he is” Gabriel huffed, not surprised at all by that information.

Those metaphorical bricks managed to get one more wack into Aziraphale’s gut, making him assume that Anthony just didn’t want anything to do with him again.

“The bill, please” Gabriel said and Aziraphale lifted an eyebrow because it was the first time that evening that he had heard the word ‘please’ come out of the man’s mouth.

In a matter of moments, the waitress returned with the bill and Gabriel paid for the whole thing with a flash of his Black American Express card.

Aziraphale restrained himself from rolling his eyes but managed to politely thank Gabriel for the gesture.

……….

“Thank you again for dinner Gabriel, it was lovely” Aziraphale tried to keep up a pleasant facade as they strolled through the parking lot.

“My pleasure, Sunshine… only the best for – oh eh, what do we have _here?”_ he said, nodding towards a pristine vintage Bentley just a few spots over. “Looks like _someone_ is trying to compensate for something, heh” the American chuckled at his own joke.

“Oh _my!”_ Aziraphale said, pushing Gabriel’s comment aside and just taking in the glorious vision of the black beauty. “My my, you are _absolutely gorgeous,_ aren’t you, darling?” he spoke to the car like it was alive, bathing it with compliments as he took a turn around it.

“I must be honest, I’m usually not one for vehicles but she is _stunning!”_ Aziraphale said.

“I guess so, if you prefer cosmetics over performance” Gabriel said, continuing then to gush about American made cars while he ushered his date away from the Bentley and towards his BMW.

Aziraphale smiled back at the Bentley, giving it a little wave goodbye as he went.

……….

“So…” Gabriel said when they arrived at his car, easily shepherding Aziraphale so that he had him pinned between the car and his tall, masculine figure.

“S-s-so, yes, quite. W-w-we should get on the road, yes?” the blonde stuttered and reached behind him to try and find the handle to open the door.

“But what about _dessert?”_ Gabriel asked, inching his way closer.

“I-I thought you didn’t like dessert” Aziraphale countered, pale eyebrows pushing together in worry when he finally tugged at the handle but found that it was still locked.

“Oh, I think I can make an exception for you, Sunshine” Gabriel brought out all the charm at his disposal, reaching up and daring to stroke a knuckle over a plump cheek. “I’m sure I’ve got something sweet at my place we can share.”

“No!” Aziraphale blurted out, a little louder and high-pitched than he was intending. “I-I-I mean, _no thank you_ Gabriel. I am quite alright. If you could just, just take me home I would be ever so grateful.”

“Aww, come on” Gabriel pressed on, his hard chest now pressing against the blonde’s, moving his head down while he stared at soft pink lips. “I know you want it…”

Aziraphale tensed up, closing his eyes tight and turning his head, waiting for the determined American to make the final plunge.

……….

After leaving the bathroom earlier, Crowley declared that he was having a break and barged straight out the back of the restaurant.

“Fucking _fuck!”_ he swore out some frustration as he strutted around in a circle, grunting and huffing like a bull looking for something red to destroy.

“Stupid fucking adorable Angel!” he grumbled and then kicked the side of a dumpster.

“Ah! _Fuck!”_ he yelled, wincing in pain and instantly regretted taking his anger out on solid metal.

He grumbled about stupid sexy angels and dumb fucking dumpsters as he limped his way to the corner of the restaurant, planting himself down on the floor and leaning back against the outside wall with his legs spread out in front of him. He sighed and rested his head back, closing his eyes and taking in a few deep breaths.

After mindful breathing didn’t work, he plucked his cell phone out his impossibly tight trousers and tried to escape into the virtual world with some epic-fail videos and candy crush.

It wasn’t until someone calling ‘No!’ that his electronic bubble was popped. Frowning, he jumped up, pocketed his phone and went to investigate.

……….

“Don’t you know what the word _NO_ means, douche bag?” Crowley voiced loudly as he closed in on the scene.

The lanky redhead had been ready to kick some ass the second he heard someone calling out in distress. However, now that he was close enough to see that it was his angel in trouble, well now he was prepared to commit murder.

“This doesn’t concern you, sweet cheeks, I suggest you run along” Gabriel commented, not even looking away from Aziraphale. The blonde was clearly _not_ enjoying himself. Usually plump and pink cheeks were cold and pale, eyebrows pushed together, and eyes squeezed shut. The cherubic face even flinched when he heard the American whisper something into his ear.

 _Right!_ Crowley affirmed to himself as he marched up and grabbed two fistfuls of the American’s jacket, yanking him off the angel and throwing him across an empty parking space.

“I suggest you get your fucking ears cleaned, mate!” Crowley growled, fingers curling up into tight fists in case a punch was needed to get his point through. “The man said NO. Now _back the fuck off him.”_

Gabriel was surprised at first, caught off guard by being manhandled. It was obvious that he hadn’t expected the lanky redhead to be that strong. “Alright, alright” he said, nodding his head along and holding his hands up in a mocking ‘surrender’. He scoffed as he righted himself and then walked around to the driver’s side of his car. “Come on Sunshine, it’s about time we get going anyway.”

“Are you kidding?!” Aziraphale spoke before Crowley had the chance to bark back, and oh how he wanted to do that.

“ I’m not going _anywhere_ with you!” the blonde said, surprised by the firm confidence of his own voice.

 _“Fine,_ whatever. Don’t like fatties anyway” Gabriel said, just having to get in the last word. “Find your own way home, I’m done” he said, slamming the door behind him and driving off.

“What a _wanker!”_ Crowley said, breaking the silence that had been growing since the smug American had drove off.

Before he could stop himself, Aziraphale was laughing. He nodded in agreement, “that he is.”

Crowley found himself smiling, liking the way that the blonde was visibly returning to how he usually was. Soft, sweet and happy.

“Thank you” the soft blonde said, turning to look at Crowley just as Crowley was pretending to be looking somewhere else.

“Errrmm, ‘sno trouble” the redhead gave a dismissive wave of his hand before pocketing it away.

Another calm silence fell between them, the sort where they both wanted to say something but neither of them knew exactly where to start.

“Oh _bother”_ Aziraphale said at last, his mind suddenly wandering in another direction. “Oh, you don’t know where the nearest bus stop is do you?” he asked, hoping that the redhead might know seeing as he apparently worked here now. He started to worry himself with picking at the bottom of his waist cost, blue eyes aimlessly looking around for any sign of buses.

Crowley was unable to stop the smile that found its way onto his gorgeous face, curving those thin lips into an amused smirk. He would say one thing about the blonde angel, he was fucking adorable when he looked helpless.

“Dunno” the ginger said, shrugging bony shoulders and playing it cool.

“Oh dear” the blonde replied with a deflated sigh.

“I can give you a lift” Crowley blurted out before cooling adding “I mean, you know, if you want.”

“Oh, really?” the angel asked, his face beaming with far too much light and happiness that Crowley swore it was illegal.

“Yeah, why not” Crowley gave another shrug. “We can even get some dessert if you like.”

Aziraphale suddenly narrowed his eyes, remembering what Gabriel had just said about dessert.

Crowley blinked in confusion and then suddenly realised “oh no! not like _that!”_ he sputtered out, his face turning red. “I mean, you know, some ice cream or gelato or whatever.”

“Oh” Aziraphale said, smiling in relief. “That would be rather lovely actually.”

Crowley smiled and started to fish his keys out of his pocket while he led the way through the parking lot.

Aziraphale started to follow but then stopped when he realised something. “Oh, aren’t you supposed to be… you know… working?” he asked, nodding over in the direction of the restaurant.

“Nah, fuck that” Crowley said without even looking back. “You know that bloody baldy has pinched my ass five times since I started? And I’ve only been there for three days!”

“Oh, I see. I am sorry” the blonde said, feeling bad for what Anthony had been through.

“Heh, there you go again, saying sorry for things you didn’t do” Crowley looked back to make sure the angel could see the cheeky grin on his face. “Yeah, screw them. I can find something else, don’t you worry about me Angel.”

Aziraphale was just about to say that he would very well worry about whomever he wanted to when he was startled by a set of flashing lights. He blinked, not believing his eyes as he watched the redhead saunter straight up to the equally gorgeous black Bentley and opened the passenger side door.

“Your chariot awaits” Crowley said, leaning on the door and waving a hand in a regal manner.

Aziraphale flashed an amused smile as he approached, smoothly sliding into the passenger seat and letting Anthony close the door after him.

Once they were both inside the car and strapped in, Crowley started the car and steered it out onto the street. 

“So” Crowley said, glancing into his rear-view mirror and then back to the street ahead of him. “What kind of dessert do you feel like, Angel?”

“Ooo good question!” the blonde said, his face filling with joy. “How about some _crepes?”_

……….

Ten minutes later they were walking into a rather quaint looking twenty-four-hour diner, the kind that served breakfast at any time of night or day. They sat down in a cosy booth and placed their order with a waitress. After she disappeared, they both let out a long breath and leaned back into the padded seating. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet and it already felt like it had been a long night.

After a moment, Crowley reached back and took out the pins that had been holding his hair up. A sigh of relief swam past his lips as he gave his head a shake, letting the long curls fall and spring to life around his face and shoulders.

Aziraphale smiled and watched with interest as those fiery locks were unleased, reminding him of how beautifully they shimmered in the light. When Aziraphale caught himself staring, he cleared his throat and then looked down, unfolding his napkin and sliding it over his lap.

“So” Aziraphale started, deciding it was only proper to start a conversation, lest they spend the whole time in awkward silence. “I have a dilemma now it seems.”

“Oh?” Crowley asked, tilting his head and raising a brow. “Pray tell, what is your dilemma, Angel?”

“Well” Aziraphale said, giving his own head a tilt. “I seem to have too many names for you. Serpentarius, Anthony, AJ. I’m afraid I’m not quite sure what to call you now.” He said, a little smile on his soft lips.

“Ah, yes. I see. Big dilemma that. _Huge_ problem.” the redhead said in a teasing tone, crossing his arms and considering something for a moment. “Call me Crowley.”

 _“Crowley”_ Aziraphale said, testing it to see how it felt. He decided that it rolled rather nicely off his tongue.

“M-hm, ‘smy surname. I prefer it.” He said, stating it as a fact.

“Well then, Crowley it is” the angel smiled, giving a little nod.

“And should I just keep calling you Angel, or?...” the cheeky redhead asked, smirking.

The blonde smirked back, wondering for a moment if he wanted to be sincere or to tease the ginger a bit. In the end, he decided to play nice.

“My name is Aziraphale, surname Fell, since we are sharing family names.”

Crowley thought about this for a moment, lifting his chin and trailing a finger up and down his skinny neck.

“Hmmm, think I might stick to Angel actually. Aziraphale is nice, but a bit of a mouthful” he grinned and then added “do you mind?”

Aziraphale shook his head, trying not to blush but failing. “Of course not, I do not mind at all. Call me whatever you like.”

“I’ll hold you to that” Crowley grinned and winked, getting in one more flirtation before the waitress reappeared with their food.

The next hour went by rather pleasantly, with Aziraphale enjoying some truly delicious crepes and Crowley quite content to sip on some strong black coffee. Unlike the bland conversations he had had with Gabriel earlier that evening, talking to Crowley proved to be much more interesting. They talked about anything that just popped to mind and then chased any tangents that went in weird and odd directions. By the time that the angel was humming in approval to the last bite of crepes, he had discovered that Crowley loved the music of Queen and was weirded out by ducks because he couldn’t see their ears. At the same time, Crowley came to learn that Aziraphale adored finding typos in Bibles and secretly fantasized about being a spy in World War II.

After dabbing his lips with his napkin, Aziraphale leaned back and spoke soft and sweet “mmm that was _scrumptious._ What are you in the mood for now?” he asked before he had time to think too much about the question.

 _“Alcohol!”_ Crowley grinned, dinging the side of his coffee cup with a spoon. “Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Extra note - not sure how long until my next update. Probably not as fast as the last few chapters have been, but I certainly won't keep you waiting too long. Probably on the weekend or next week sometime.
> 
> Anyway - stay safe everyone.
> 
> <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skip to the morning after the night before.
> 
> Funnily enough, Crowley and Aziraphale remember no more than we already know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, welcome to the hangover chapter! Enjoy some light-hearted comedy and cheeky flirtation.
> 
> Love you, ineffable nerds. 
> 
> <3

Aziraphale woke to a massive headache. The kind of headache that felt like your brain was going to break in two. With a start, he sprung up from where he had been laid on the sofa in the back room of his shop and sat with almost perfect posture, blinking his too-wide eyes that were red and wanting of more sleep. There was a moment of stunned silence where he thought maybe he was dead and then thought better of it when his other extremities started feeling things.

 _Water_ was the next thought he had, chapped lips bucking together while he tried to remember if he had recently eaten sandpaper. With a pained groan, he lifted himself up off the couch and stumbled his way toward the kitchenette sink. On his way there, he neglected to spot that his Persian rug was rather bumpy and _breathing._

In the flash of three seconds, there was a series of gasps, high-pitched shrieks and an _Ooof,_ resulting in the Angel being flat on his ass on the floor and a startled Crowley thinking he was having a heart attack. The two of them sat there for a moment and just stared at each other, their brains attempting to do a hard reset. You could almost hear the sound of cogs squeaking, struggling to get back into action.

Crowley blinked and then winced, screwing his face up as if his mouth tasted of feet. “Water” he said, not to anyone in particular. It was his body verbalising an urgent need more than attempting to start a conversation.

Aziraphale groaned and nodded in agreement. With no small effort, the two of them helped each other up off the floor and over to the sink where they tried not to simply stick their heads under the faucet. Without words, they skulled a whole glass each and then filled back up before stumbling over to the seating area. Crowley flopped down on the couch that Aziraphale had been sleeping on while Aziraphale sat down onto his favourite armchair. 

Aziraphale sat completely still and focused on not throwing up the water while Crowley hissed at the sunlight peering through the window, squinting as he dug into his pants and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, sliding them over his eyes.

Once Aziraphale was reassured that he was not going to puke, he blinked and then asked Crowley, “how can you fit so much stuff in such _tight_ pants?”

The redhead sunk down to lay on the couch properly and flashed a smirk, wondering if the Angel was aware of the obvious innuendo of that question. When it was clear that the innocent blonde did indeed not register the dirty side to it, Crowley chuckled and then answered with a cheeky “is magic, Angel. Mary Poppin’s pants.”

“Mary Poppin’s pan-? _Oh!”_ the reference caught up with Aziraphale and he giggled. “Guess that makes you practically perfect in every way then” he said before thinking and then instantly blushed at what he said.

Crowley’s laugh returned and continued until he winced in pain and held his hand to his side. “Ow! Fuck Angel, what the hell did we drink last night?”

“Hmm” Aziraphale hummed, considering the question. “I think the more accurate wording is, what _didn’t_ we drink last night?” he said and then nodded towards the absolute mess that was surrounding them.

The bookshop was an absolute _mess,_ well at least the backroom was, Aziraphale was a bit scared to see if the storm extended to the rest of the building. There were empty bottles everywhere, corks flung in odd directions and way too many wineglasses for two people. He frowned when he noticed that a few of them were broken. Other than bottles and glasses, there were a number of questionable things in the room including a tower of Jenga made out of books and a large bowl of pears, each one having a single bite taken out of it.

 _Pears!_ Aziraphale thought to himself. _Yes, that was definitely the fruity taste in the back of his throat._ He blinked and sipped on his water, hoping that Crowley wouldn’t notice the pear thing.

The two of them looked just as dishevelled as their surroundings. Aziraphale was wearing the same outfit from last night, minus his coat, his waist coat, shoes and one tartan sock. His hair was wispy and ragged, looking more like a mop than a hairstyle. His shirt was more or less still intact, apart from the top buttons being popped open and his bow tie hung undone around his neck.

When it came to Crowley, it was hard to say if his hair was unkept or not. It did have the look or someone who had just woken up on the floor, but somehow he made it look like that was a chic style and meant to be that way. He too was missing his shoes but wore both socks. Those provocative pants were certainly his but that shirt…

“Is that… is that my shirt?” Aziraphale asked, eyes finally returning to the lounging redhead.

“Huh? Oh heh, yeah I think it might be” Crowley said, only now realising that he wasn’t wearing the same top from last night. He looked down at the baggy cream-coloured button up that was way to big for his scrawny figure. Aziraphale blushed as he watched the redhead inspecting it, lifting his arm and sniffing the fabric. “Hmmm, smells like you” Crowley said casually.

Aziraphale gave a small laugh. “And how do you know what I _smell_ like?”

“Well… I got a pretty good whiff of you the other week, Angel. In the back room” Crowley said with a smirk, winking even though it couldn’t be seen behind the shades.

“Oh” Aziraphale said, his blush growing across his pale face.

“Forgotton about that already, Angel?” Crowley said with mirth in his voice.

“NO!” Aziraphale blurted out. “Of course not. I could _never_ forget that!” his adorable face was looking so distraught, worried that the gorgeous Serpentarius would ever think he would forget something like that. “You were… _you are…_ oh, you are teasing me, aren’t you?”

“Knew you would get there eventually” Crowley smirked, seemingly rather pleased with himself.

They both laughed at that and then took long sips of their water before falling back into a comfortable silence. Crowley yawned and Aziraphale rubbed his eyes.

“Is it just me or do you – “ Aziraphale started to say, Crowley quick to finish his thought.

“Not remember a thing about last night?” Crowley said, Aziraphale nodding to that.

“Yeah, no. Last thing I remember is the… the bloody diner” Crowley confessed.

“Yes. I had crepes!” the blonde said, happily remembering the taste of the scrummy dessert.

“You did indeed” Crowley grinned and then frowned. “And then yeah. I _think_ we went to a bar then. I remember wanting a drink.” Crowley scoffed at his own words in amusement. “I guess I got one, huh?”

“Indeed” Aziraphale said with a smirk.

Crowley smiled back, enjoying the view of the blonde and finding it amazing how someone could sit so prim and proper while harbouring a hangover.

“So… I’m guessing we are at your place then?” Crowley said, thinking that the blonde matched the décor a little too perfectly.

“Hmm? Oh yes, we are, quite right” Aziraphale nodded, sighing softly and looking once more across the room. “This is my bookshop. Well, the backroom of it anyway. My flat is upstairs” he said, pointing upwards and then felt silly for saying that. Was that too much information? No, surely it wasn’t. He _had_ asked after all.

“Heh, that’s handy” Crowley commented.

“Yes, it is rather. Although I must apologise. I’m not the most organised person in the world but it is never usually _this_ messy” he said, glaring at the pears that were just mocking him now.

Crowley chuckled. “Oh, I think I need to apologise as well in that case. It looks like we both had a hand in… well in _all this”_ he said, vaguely waving his arm around.

“I guess you are right” Aziraphale grinned. “We did a jolly good job of it, didn’t we?”

Crowley laughed and nodded and then yawned as he reached behind him, moaning as he arched his back and stretched his long, slender limbs.

Aziraphale could not help but watch, hypnotized as always by how the ginger moved. He really did have the most perfect body, that fact only heightened as it lifted towards the ceiling and tightened with the force of the stretch. Blue eyes were entranced, captivated by the sheer beauty of the gorgeous redhead. He smiled and then tilted his head when he noticed something he had never before.

“Crowley?” he asked.

“Mmmyeah?” the stretching creature asked, falling back down onto the couch like a boneless mass.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but did you always have the, umm…” the blonde asked, reaching up to touch his head as a reference point, pointing to the spot just next to his right ear.

“What?” Crowley asked with a furrowed brow, reaching up and then – “Ow!” he exclaimed, feeling stinging pain erupt from his temple. “What the actual fuck?!” he said, eyes widening in concern. “What the hell is it? A bloody spider bite?!” he yelled, his voice becoming high-pitched as the panic rose. He sprung up from his laying position. “If it is, we need to go to the hospital like yesterday!” he started to hyperventilate. “Oh shit, their gonna amputate my hair, aren’t they?”

“Oh, calm down, you ninny” Aziraphale giggled. “It actually… it looks like a tattoo.”

“A wot?!” Crowley said and then sprung up from the couch completely, standing to attention. “Where’s the bathroom, Angel? I need a mirror, stat!”

“Over there, first on the left” Aziraphale gestured in the general direction. Crowley just nodded and was gone in a flash. “It’s really not _that_ bad… looks rather cute” Aziraphale called out after the ginger.

“Cute!!!?” Crowley yelled out “It’s not a fucking love heart or something is it?”

“It looked a bit too wiggly to be a heart, dear” the blonde said. “Kind of like a –“

“Snake, it’s a snake!” Crowley yelped, storming out of the bathroom with a less than pleased look on his face “I’m gonna _kill them…_ gonna fucking wrap my hands around their bloody throat and _strangle_ them!” he said while he dug his hands into his pockets looking for his phone.

“Kill who, dear?” the blonde said, looking more worried now. He completely understood that waking up with a tattoo on one’s face would be a rather unpleasant experience, but he didn’t want the gorgeous redhead to end up in jail for manslaughter.

 _“Beez._ I know it was them, I just know it!” Crowley snarled and then huffed once he had checked all his pockets. _“Great,_ now I’ve lost my phone!” he said, twirling about and looking around the room instead.

“Oh dear” Aziraphale said. “I’ll, I’ll give it a call… just wait one… one…” he said and then frowned when he soon realised, he didn’t know where his mobile was either. “Actually, where is _my_ phone?”

They looked straight at each other, thinking the same explicit word at the same time.

“Oh!” Aziraphale said, a lightbulb sparking above his head. “Land line! We can call them!” he smiled, springing up and heading out to the main floor of the shop and straight to his desk. As he went, he was glad to see that the drunken tornado had done minimal damage to his collection.

“Guess there’s something to be said for the good old-fashioned ways huh Angel?” Crowley said while he followed the blonde. He blinked in awe at seeing the sheer number of books in the place and then was reminded of the pain on the side of his head “Fucking Bee” he mumbled under his breath.

“Right!” Aziraphale exclaimed as he sat at his desk and slid his little round spectacles on without a second thought. He opened his small black book and flipped it to the F section until he saw the number under A.Z. Fell (Mobile Telephone).

“Don’t know your own number, Angel?” Crowley mocked as he leaned against the desk. He was still annoyed by the pop-up tattoo but the vision of the angel with his little glasses and phone book was just too adorable a sight.

“Whatever for? I never have to call myself” the blonde chuckled, finding that notion rather ridiculous. “Right, keep your ears open for the ringtone” he said while he lifted the handle of his rotary phone and swirled his finger around to dial the number. As soon as he heard the ringing tone from the landline, he looked around the shop and expectantly waited to hear the familiar digital bells playing Greensleeves. It never came and he frowned when the line rang through to the voice mail.

“Oh dear” Aziraphale said and sighed. “Shall we try yours, dear boy?” he asked, handing up the phone and then picking it up again to dial a second time.

“If you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask, Angel” Crowley smirked.

“Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t mean it like _that,_ I just – oh” he sighed. “You are messing with he again.”

“M-hm” Crowley grinned. “You really are fun to tease” he grinned and plucked up a pen and proceeded to scribble his name and number down in the C section of the little black book.

Aziraphale was flushed at the comment and at the fact that _Serpentarius_ was in his home right now and writing his number down in his phone book. Clearing his throat, he straightened the little glasses that were already perfectly in place and then began dialling the number for Crowley’s phone. They both listened carefully, waiting to hear a phone singing out somewhere in the bookshop. When it didn’t come, they sighed and then tried each phone once more.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry to say this but I think we may have completely lost them.” The blonde said, sighing while he removed the glasses from his nose and neatly placed them on his desk.

“Nah, bollocks to that!” Crowley perked up. “We can find them. We just have to retrace out steps, that’s all.”

“Retrace our steps?” the blonde said, not quite understanding how they can do that when neither of them remembered the majority of the night before.

“Yeah, it’s like that movie _Dude where’s my car_ or like _The Hangover._ We gotta go back to the last place we remember, which is that diner, yeah?” Crowley said, starting to feel more positive as he sprung up from the desk and went to find his shoes which he thought he spotted in the hallway.

“Dude where’s my _what?”_ the adorable blonde asked, pottering along behind the determined redhead.

“Car, Angel, Car” Crowley grinned, plucking his shoes up from the ground. “Speaking of which, I bloody hope the Bentley is alright.”

“I'm sure she is fine" the angel said with a smile, snatching up his shoes and the elusive tartan sock. "And that plan sounds good, retracing steps, sounds logical" he nodded and sat down to pop them onto his feet.

Before they left the bookshop, Aziraphale wrote up a little note that read _Due to unforeseen circumstances, we are closed today, our humble apologies. ~A.Z. Fell & Co._ and stuck it in the front alongside the generic _Closed_ sign. After locking up, the two of them set off to where their memories had last tuned out.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventure to find out what happened the night before continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience everyone, this week turned out to be rather busy for me, I hardly had any time for writing.
> 
> I hope that you all enjoy this latest update. 
> 
> Much love to you, ineffable nerds. 
> 
> <3

“Well, at least we know we didn’t drink and drive” Aziraphale commented once they had arrived at the diner after a quiet cab ride there.

Crowley was still feeling a little worse for wear, but seeing his beloved Bentley parked neatly without a scratch on her was a welcoming sight indeed. He breathed a bit easier as they walked into the diner, being sure to give her bonnet a soft tap of affection as he passed.

Aziraphale pretended not to see the loving caress but smiled softly to himself because it was truly adorable how much Crowley cared for his car. If truth be told, he was glad that such a magnificent vehicle had such an attentive owner. His overthinking mind momentarily wondered if Crowley would similarly be an attentive boyfriend, but he was sure to push that thought aside before his blush became noticeable.

“Alright gents?” the familiar waitress greeted them as they entered the diner and sat down at the same booth that they had eaten at the night before.

“I was beginning to wonder when I’d see you two today” she giggled, strutting up to them and handing them both a menu. She grinned and popped her hands upon her hips, giving them both a once over. “If I’m completely honest, you don’t look half as bad as I thought you were gonna. You two were _absolutely wasted.”_

Crowley and Aziraphale gave each other questioning looks, both of them wondering why the waitress had seen them drunk. Hadn’t they left the diner after they had crepes and coffee?

“Please do forgive us my dear, but we… well we seem to be having some memory issues this morning, uh, this afternoon more like it” Aziraphale started, quick to correct himself when he remembered that they had slept half the day away. “If you would be so kind, ah, miss. Did we perhaps come back here after we had a few drinks last night?”

The waitress nodded and couldn’t help but giggle. “I would probably say it was quite a bit more than just _a few drinks_ but yeah, you guys came back here at – oh I dunno, it was about half one I think when you popped back in. You seemed in a bit of a rush as well.”

“We were?” Aziraphale asked, his interest piqued. Why on Earth would they have been in a rush?

“Not sure really” she shrugged and then pointedly looked at Crowley, whose boneless body was slowly sinking further down the chair. _“You_ were fussing on about your precious car out there” she said, nodding out towards the Bentley. “You gave me a fiver and told me to look after her for you, said you would rain all hell down on me if anything happened to her” she scoffed and then added a “I’ll get you some coffee, you look like you need it” before she set off to do just that.

Aziraphale had on a little personal smile then while he perused the menu options. Crowley frowned at Aziraphale, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses and trying to guess what that little smug smile was all about.

“Right, what’s with the smirk?” Crowley finally asked, done with guessing.

“I’m afraid I do not know what you mean, my dear” Aziraphale said, holding his head up just a tad higher. “I assure you that I never _smirk.”_

Crowley groaned and gave a half-hearted wave of his hand. “Smile then, whatever. Is it the Bentley thing? Cause I assure _you_ that anyone would be lucky to have a car like her. Quality workmanship, low mileage for her age, fantastic condition! I feel _no_ shame in admitting that her safety is a priority, none whatsoever” Crowley ended his little rant with a huff and a flip up of his menu, ducking under it’s shade to declare that he was quite done with that subject.

“Actually, I quite agree with you” Aziraphale said calmly, not unlike a teacher who had just witnessed a child throwing a tantrum. “I was actually smiling because I found it rather interesting that you only paid the girl a fiver.” The blonde’s smile widened. “I mean _five pounds?_ Really? That is hardly what I would call a tip, dear boy.”

Crowley scoffed and replied, “What should I have done, make it rain for her?”

“Oh, don’t be silly” Aziraphale chided, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I would have just thought that looking after your _precious_ car for an evening would be worth more that simply five pounds. Twenty perhaps, even fifty?”

 _“Fifty!”_ Crowley exclaimed, slamming his menu down on the counter and shaking his head. “You tip _way_ too much, do you know that Angel?”

“I never heard you complaining about that before” Aziraphale said. He was without a doubt now _smirking,_ a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes as he looked up over the top of his menu, pale eyebrow risen in a taunting manner. “I tipped you a hundred pounds, remember? Each time, I might add.”

Crowley looked straight back at those baby blues, his own smirk finding its way across thin lips while he leaned back, lounging languidly and crossing his arms while he replied. “Yes, but I _deserved_ every bit of that, Angel. If she jumped onto this table and danced half as well as I do, I would give her my whole wallet.”

“Hmm, touché, dear boy, touché” Aziraphale chuckled, flashing Crowley a knowing smile just before the waitress returned bearing coffee.

……….

 _“Mmm, delicious”_ Aziraphale said, dabbing the napkin on his lips after he had swallowed the last bite of his meal. He had splurged on some buttermilk pancakes with syrup and bacon, his hungover body grateful for the carbs and sugar.

Crowley smiled, enjoying the satisfied look on the angel’s face. It was only the second time that Crowley had watched Aziraphale eat (that he could remember) and had already decided that he was a great fan of it. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was like Aziraphale was so engrossed with the simple pleasure of flavours and textures that for a moment in time, nothing else existed. For a second, Crowley wondered if Aziraphale had done that when he watched him dance.

Right at that moment, Aziraphale sipped his tea and made a soft moan of pleasure which was a little more obscene than Crowley could handle. Covering a forced cough with his fist, Crowley shifted in his seat, reaching down with his other hand to adjust his increasingly tighter pants.

“Well that was lovely, I really needed that” the cheerful blonde said, daintily setting the teacup down on its saucer. “Shall we get going?”

“No!” Crowley said a little too fast. “I mean, not yet. We uh, we should probably work out where we are gonna go next.”

“Right” Aziraphale said with a nod. “I suppose we could always go to the bars around this area, but I think we already know what we were doing there.”

Crowley laughed and nodded along in agreement.

“Pockets!” Crowley suddenly blurted out, sending Aziraphale’s face into a look that implied that he might think the redhead was going mad.

“Just- look in your pockets, Angel” Crowley said while he was already fishing into the depths of his Mary Poppin’s pants. “There might be, you know, clues and stuff.”

“Oh! Oh, I see now, yes, jolly good idea!” the blonde announced before reaching into the myriad of various pockets which he had about his person.

Within the minute, they were faced with a selection of random things which they had accumulated somewhere amidst their drunken adventures. From Crowley’s pants there was a handful of bottlecaps, two sealed condoms and a ticket from a dry cleaner. From Aziraphale there was a packet of mints, a receipt and a small gold ring.

“Hmm… I wonder where this came from” Aziraphale mused, picking up the ring and inspecting it closer. “What beautiful details, looks like wings” he smiled, inspecting the gorgeous workmanship.

“I know _exactly_ where it came from” Crowley contributed while he looked at the receipt, discovering that it was a record of the ring’s purchase. “Funnily enough, it’s the same place I think I got _this”_ he added, pointing his finger at the fresh tattoo on his face.

“Huh” Aziraphale said, smiling softly as he slipped the ring onto his pinkie, the only finger that it was small enough to fit. “What kind of place sells antique jewellery _and_ does tattoos?”

“The dodgy kind, Angel” Crowley frowned and then cracked his neck. “I’ll show you, let’s go.”

After paying the bill and making sure that the kind waitress had received some decent compensation for all her help, they got into the Bentley and went on their way.

……….

“Here we are” Crowley said as he steered the Bentley into a parking space in front of their destination.

Right away, Aziraphale could see what Crowley had meant by _dodgy._ The front of the shop looked like it was good place to buy drugs, and probably was. There were numerous trash cans stacked in front and a faded, yellowing sign above which read _PAWN & INK._

“Hmm, charming” Aziraphale said, voice thick with sarcasm.

“Heh, wait till you see the owners. Charm city those two” Crowley smirked, yanking on the hand brake and slipping out of the car.

Together, the two of them ventured into what looked like the gates of hell. A rusty bell tingled as the pair walked through the creaking door, stepping into the small shop which was lit by flickering fluorescent lights. The inside of the shop did look much nicer than the outside, but not by much. There were small aisles of all sorts of stock, vaguely arranged in some kind of order. The other side of the store looked like a comic book had exploded, artwork splattered all over the walls, floor and ceiling. An intimidating salon chair stood next to a table of inks and needles.

“DAGON, DOOR!” a loud voice called from somewhere in a backroom.

“ANSWER IT THEN BEE. I GOT IT LAST TIME!” another voice called out, similarly just as loud and frustrated.

“Ugh, FINE!” the first voice shouted again moments before a short, black haired grungy looking thing came shuffling out into the main floor of the shop, shoes dragging on the ground and eyes glued to the screen of a mobile phone. The petite punk grumbled something to herself before saying “welcome to pawn n’ ink… yadda yadda… whatyawant?” the monotone voice mumbled, it’s host not even looking up.

“Quality customer service as always I see” Crowley commented, slipping his hands deep into his pant pockets.

Two pale blue eyes flashed up from the mobile, a smirk fast to slide across black lips. “YOU OWE ME TEN POUNDS, DAGON!”

“Bet her that you’d show up today. She was sure you wouldn’t be alive till tomorrow” Bee scoffed, stashing the phone into her pocket.

“FUCK OFF, REALLY?!” Dagon came rushing out, grumbling while she took a note out of the till and begrudgingly handed it over to her girlfriend. 

“Sup, winos?” Dagon then grinned, hooking her arm around Bee’s shoulders.

Aziraphale grimaced at the term wino and Crowley simply rolled his eyes, not really in the mood for dealing with the crude couple at the moment.

“Great, so I was right. _This_ is all your doing” Crowley said, turning his head to flash the tattoo.

“’Course it was” Bee scoffed. “And don’t tell me that you don’t like it, you’ve been wanting that for _years_ now Crowley, and you know it. It’s not _my_ fault that you finally grew some balls last night.”

“Just ask blondie about that” Dagon smirked, earning herself a jab to the ribs.

“Pardon me?!” Aziraphale asked, hand flying up to press against his chest in offence.

“’Nuffin, just. Well, _you know._ Couldn’t keep ya hands off each other last night, could ya?” Bee said casually.

Crowley and Aziraphale glanced at each other and then looked away, both instantly blushing a deep red.

“Ooooohhh, damn!” Dagon said, grinning from ear to ear. “You guys don’t remember a thing, do you?”

……….

With much to much delight, Bee and Dagon filled Crowley and Aziraphale in on what had occurred last night. Well, at least what had happened in their shop.

Apparently, the pair had barged into the shop drunk as skunks and unable to keep their hands off each other. In their inebriated state, they had managed to knock over a whole shelf and ran out a potential customer. Once they had finally stopped sucking face and got a good yelling at, they first laughed, apologised and promised they would make up for it.

Making up for it entailed Aziraphale buying something from the more expensive jewellery cabinet and Crowley finally getting that snake tattoo which he had been saying he wanted for years now but was always too chicken to actually get. Afterwards, the drunks were shepherded out before any more damage came to the shop.

“And um…” Aziraphale started with a weak voice, his face red and plump with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, mostly the making out with Crowley bit. How could he have forgotten something so important? Oh, he did wish that he could remember at least _that._ “Did we um, perhaps say where we were off to next?” he asked politely.

“Nah, not really” Bee said, then smirked from ear to ear “just said you were gonna go _celebrate.”_

“Oh, good lord” Aziraphale said, fanning himself with his own hand.

“Yeah you even swiped a couple of condoms from the lost and found box” Dagon added, a toothy grin to match her girlfriend’s.

 _“Fuuuuck!”_ Crowley groaned, grabbing the two unopened condoms from his pocket and flinging it to the floor like it was on fire.

“Naww… you saying you guys didn’t _seal the deal?”_ Dagon said and then was hushed by the sinister glare that was fired by Crowley.

“Oh my” Aziraphale said, suddenly feeling light headed. “I um, I think I need some air” he said, turning around on the spot in a haze before registering where the exit was. “Lov-lovely meeting you two.” He managed to get out before slipping outside for some much-needed fresh air.

“Jesus fucking Christ, good work on scaring him!” Crowley growled, digging his fingers into his hair.

“Oh, stop being a drama queen” Bee said simply.

 _“A drama queen?!”_ Crowley fired up. “You tattooed my _fucking face_ Beelzebub!”

Bee narrowed her eyes and growled “no need for that kind of fucking language, _Anthony.”_

“Fine! _shit!”_ he sighed, doing a spin on the spot and then squatting down, burying his face in his hands.

“Calm down man. You’ve been wanting to get that tattoo for yonks. It looks good on you” Dagon chimed in, trying to defuse the inevitable spiral downwards.

Crowley sighed into his own hands and took a moment before standing back up and running his fingers through his long hair, smoothing down the wild curls.

"Right, yes, good” he said and then sighed again, looking over to the door. “Do you think I’ve completely scared him away?” he asked softly, genuine worry on his face.

“Nah, he’ll be fine” Bee said.

“He _likes_ you” Dagon added.

“Really?” Crowley asked.

“’Course mate, he couldn’t keep his hands off you last night” Bee chuckled.

“Yeah but you know. That was on the booze” Crowley argued.

“Booze or not, it’s easy to see he likes you” Dagon said.

“Yeah” Crowley sighed. “I like him too.”

“No shit Sherlock” Bee scoffed, Crowley glared.

“Just, go see if he’s ok. We’ll catch up later yeah?” Dagon suggested.

“Yeah…” Crowley frowned and took a breath in, trying to muster the courage to face the angel.

“Oh, just one more thing. We didn’t leave our phones here did we?” Crowley asked as an afterthought.

“Hmm nah” Bee said, thinking about it. “Actually, I don’t think you even had your phones with you.”

“Shit, ok, thanks guys” Crowley said and then headed out.

……….

“You okay Angel?” Crowley asked, walking up next to Aziraphale who was standing by the side of the road, looking up at the afternoon sky and breathing deep.

“Tickety-boo, dear boy” He replied, trying to seem normal.

Crowley got the sense that Aziraphale didn’t want to talk about the whole making out business, and he understood that. It was one thing to find out that you knocked things over or unknowingly spent hundreds of pounds on a pinkie ring, but a whole other thing entirely to find out that you were sucking face with an exotic dancer you had been crushing on for weeks.

“I um, I think we might have lost our phones before we got here last night” Crowley said, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe we should take a walk towards the diner, see if we dropped them somewhere on the way?”

“Hmm?” the blonde hummed, lost in other thoughts. “Oh yes, quite right, good idea that” he nodded, smoothing his nervous hands over his waistcoat. “Shall we?”

“We shall” Crowley said, offering a warm smile.

Together, they headed off down the street.

……….

They made casual chit-chat as they strolled down the streets, keeping an eye out for anything that looked vaguely like a mobile phone. They kept the conversation away from the metaphorical elephant in the room, deciding that that was something best left for later, much later, perhaps after a few stiff drinks. The more they strolled, the more comfortable they became, simply enjoying the walk and the company.

“It’s getting late” Aziraphale commented when he looked up again, noticing that the sky was full of pinks and oranges, the sun making its steady decent.

“Yeah” Crowley sighed and nodded in agreement.

“Maybe we should think about calling it a – “ the blonde started before being interrupted by a excited gasp.

“Phones!” Crowley spat out, pointing up ahead. “Park, garden, grass, phones!” he declared as if he were making complete sense.

Aziraphale chuckled to himself as he watched Crowley run ahead like an excided toddler, dashing into a small park on the corner.

“Ah-ha!” Crowley declared as he reached down and plucked up his own phone from the grass, brushing off a layer of dirt and turning it around to make sure it was okay.

“Well spotted, dear” Aziraphale said, reaching down to pick up his own phone which was at the base of a streetlamp. He stood up straight and inspected it for damage. “Seems alright, lucky no one stole them.”

“Yeah, true” Crowley scoffed and nodded.

It was then that the streetlamp turned on, a warm illuminance shining down like a heavenly beam of sunlight. It shone straight down over Aziraphale, making his white-blonde hair glow and his face look soft and inviting. Crowley stared, just stood and stared, the newly rescued phone sitting forgotten in his hands. He suddenly remembered one important thing from the night before. He remembered a vision, the sight of a beautiful blonde standing perfectly under golden light. The glorious sight which again stood in front of him now. The closest thing to an actual living and breathing Angel. He took off his sunglasses and smiled, simply enjoying the most heavenly thing he had ever seen in his whole life.

Crowley suddenly dropped his phone, the small brick hitting the grass while he charged at the angel before him. Without hesitation, he pushed Aziraphale up against the lamp post and immediately kissed him.

 _“Hmmpph!”_ Aziraphale gasped into the kiss, blue eyes wide in shock.

Crowley looked back, bright brown eyes catching the light, shining almost as golden as his snakeish contact lenses would. For a moment they just looked at each other, lips pressed together in a chaste kiss.

Aziraphale slowly smiled into the kiss and then dropped his own phone before lifting his hands up and taking Crowley’s face into his palms. He closed his blue eyes and opened his mouth, returning the kiss with a heated passion.

Crowley moaned in pleasure and closed his own eyes, pressing his lithe body firmer against the plump angel.

They kissed hard and long against the streetlamp, finally managing to exactly recreate something from the night before.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale get back to the bookshop and continue to let the flame of their lust burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone.
> 
> I'm sorry that there was a longer than normal wait for this chapter and that this one is rather short. 
> 
> The reason being is because my nana has been ill and unfortunately passed away a couple of days ago. With all this stupid Covid stuff going on, I wasn't able to go see her before she passed nor will I be able to be at her funeral in person.
> 
> So, yeah. With all that going on, there is most likely going to be a couple of weeks break before this story gets back on track. But I do promise that I won't abandon this story, I love it too much to do that. 
> 
> Thank you all and I hope you enjoy this little bit of fluffy make-out.
> 
> Love you, ineffable nerds.
> 
> <3 <3 <3

A charming ding-a-ling rang as the front door to A. Z. Fell and Co opened, welcoming inside its owner and the tall gangly redhead. With practised steps, Mr Fell went about flicking on various lights while he led the way to the back room. He nervously muttered a few things under his breath, mostly talking to himself while he went.

Crowley just grinned, hands deep in his trouser pockets while he simply followed, walking casually and acting as nonchalantly as he could. He smirked as he watched the blonde from behind his dark shades, enjoying the way he was shuffling about nervously and muttering to himself. It was clear that Aziraphale was flustered from the make-out session in the park, perhaps not quite sure what to do with himself now. He was bitting his bottom lip and kept patting at his waist coat, wringing his hands nervously every now and then. He was indeed a nervous wreck and Crowley was finding it incredibly adorable.

“Wo-would you like some tea, dear boy?” Aziraphale asked politely, instantly heading to the sink of the kitchenette and beginning to fill the kettle up with water.

Crowley smirked, deciding that he was going to muster enough confidence for the both of them. His courage in the park had most certainly paid off and he would be damned if he were going to simply let them fall back into awkward distance. So, he seamlessly slithered up behind the fussing bookworm and coiled his slender arms around the chubby waist, claiming a gentle yet possessive hold.

“I’m not thirsty for _tea,_ Angel” he whispered into Aziraphale’s ear, making the soft white skin erupt with goose bumps.

Aziraphale’s hands shook nervously, making the kettle rattle in the sink. He gasped when the water started overflowing, stubby fingers quick to turn the faucet off.

“I – I have some biscuits somewhere if – if you are hungry… or cake, I might have some, somewhere… “Aziraphale was fussing again, his anxious mind whirling. He was not good at this whole flirting thing, not good at all. Due to the panic, he was defaulting to being a polite host. He was trying to think of more things he could offer his guest, but the slender body pressed against his back and the warm breath upon his neck was doing a great job of distracting him. When he finally felt lips kissing under his ear, his eyes rolled back in pleasure and his head fell backwards, a soft moan escaping his mouth with ease.

“I’m not hungry for _food,_ Angel” Crowley said, a deep low growl against Aziraphale’s throat.

“Oh, _Crowley…”_ the sweet Angel whined, eyebrows pushing together in a pained expression while he reached back with one hand to grasp Crowley’s hair, the other hand settling over Crowley’s hands which were holding his plush belly.

 _“Angel…”_ Crowley growled, sending a shiver straight down Aziraphale’s spine. Thin lips parted and frosted the ivory neck with open-mouthed kisses, wet and sloppy. “I want to _devour you”_ Crowley said and then tugged Aziraphale closer, claiming his creamy neck with a cheeky bite. Aziraphale gasped and keened, tightening his grip in the scarlet locks. After releasing his teeth, Crowley grinned and proceeded to lick the bite mark, savouring the delicious salty-sweet flavour of the Angel’s skin. “You are so fucking yummy” the redhead said, his voice rough with arousal.

A delightful blush bloomed over Aziraphale’s chubby cheeks. He was not use to this kind of attention, not use to it at all. He tried to relax, to clear his mind and to simply enjoy this for what it was. “Is that so?” He asked in a breath, melting a little further into the moment.

 _“Mm-hm”_ Crowley hummed, nuzzling behind Aziraphale’s ear. “A real treat” he said, administering another lick to the white flesh.

Aziraphale giggled softly, half at the tingle of the lick and half at what Crowley had said. “Here I was thinking that _you_ are the delicious snack.”

Crowley chuckled, breaking away so that he could spin Aziraphale around. Once the handsome blonde was facing him, Crowley pushed him back against the sink and trapped him there with his tall, lithe figure. “I think” Crowley began, pushing his slender leg at the crease of Aziraphale legs and pushing until his skinny thigh was lodged between the other’s thick ones. “That we are both _tremendously indulgent treats.”_ Crowley flashed one of those award-wining grins as he took a hold of Aziraphale’s hips and pushed their groins together.

Aziraphale nervously sucked on his lower lip, making it nice and red before releasing so it bounced back to its ripe, plump state. He breathed quick and shallow as he looked up to Crowley’s gorgeous face, enjoying every single inch of the angular features with his baby blue gaze. He thought about all of those times he had watched Crowley up on the stage, how he pined and ached to even be in the same room as the spectacular Serpentarius. And now he was here, the living and breathing embodiment of all his dreams and desires, pressed against him and speaking such lovely things.

 _“Oh Crowley”_ Aziraphale whispered, the pained expression back on his cherubic face as he leaned forwards to brush his lips against Crowley’s. It was a tender kiss, soft and slow and full of longing. The Angel reached up and brushed his hand over Crowley’s cheek, smiling softly when the kiss came to a natural end. “Words can not express how much I want you” he whispered, shyly batting his eyelashes.

Crowley smirked, reaching up to return the tender caress of a cheek. “I am yours, Angel” he said, words spoken with such sincere honesty. “Take me to bed” He gently urged, sealing the demand with another tender kiss.

“It would be my pleasure, dear boy” Aziraphale smiled and then took Crowley’s hand in his, gently pulling and leading the way upstairs.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening continues in the bedroom.
> 
> Sexy times are here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dears. 
> 
> Firstly, I would very much like to thank you all for your lovely and compassionate words about the passing of my nana, it was really nice of you all, thank you so much. 
> 
> I am feeling a bit better now, so I thought I would get back on the saddle and get this chapter out. 
> 
> Now, the weird thing is that I was actually intending for this chapter to be rather smutty and raunchy, but it actually ended up being more sweet and tender. But of course, the sexiness is still there. 
> 
> I hope that you all enjoy. 
> 
> Keep smiling, you ineffable beauties.
> 
> <3

“Well, this is me…” Aziraphale said as he led the way into his bedroom which sat in the little apartment above the bookshop. The room itself was rather generous, larger than one would expect a normal master bedroom to be, but it seemed much smaller due to the sheer number of bookshelves which were crammed into the space. It was almost like the bookshop below was a living and breathing creature, spreading its wings in any direction possible and shedding books wherever it could.

Apart from the books, the whole room screamed of Aziraphale. From its comfortable looking down mattress to its cream-coloured sheets and tartan curtains, the whole room was a manifestation of the handsome, frumpy little blonde. And Crowley could not be happier.

“It- well it is not much, but it meets my needs efficiently” the blonde said, suddenly looking rather embarrassed as he went straight over to the bedside table so he could clear off a few books and a soiled teacup and saucer which he had forgotten about. “My, my apologies for the mess dear boy” he sputtered, blushing as he slipped the items into a draw, hoping that Crowley didn’t see it and think him a grub who could not clean up after himself.

“I’m not attracted to you because of your domestic habits, Angel” the silky voice called, becoming clearer in his ear as its owner slithered up behind him. Aziraphale let out a soft exhale of air, closing his eyes in pleasure as he once more felt that lithe figure slide up behind up, pressing gently against his back and warming him just so.

“You, um…” the blonde started, not too sure where he was meaning to go with that. His mouth hung open while he felt a breath against the back of his neck and then soft kisses pecking at the side. He hummed in approval and let his head fall back while his hand instinctually reached back to comb lightly through the mess of long red hair. “What _does,_ um… attract you?” he asked once his brain finally caught up to his mouth.

 _“Hmmm…”_ Crowley hummed, thinking while he frosted the side of Aziraphale’s neck with small kisses and tiny, kitten-like licks. “The salty-sweet taste of your skin seems to be doing quite well, Angel” he said, smirking against the white flesh as his words evoked a gasp from his mate. It seemed that his silver tongue was just as smooth and alluring as the rest of his body was.

 _“Mmmm,_ the smell of you is divine as well…” he continued, thinking about all the things which he liked about Aziraphale as he showed his affection with more kisses and nuzzles. “The way your hair glows like golden twine in the light… the way your smile chases away the clouds… “ Crowley breathed into the Angel’s ear while he wrapped his hands around the plush waist, fingers dancing towards the buttons of a pristine vintage waistcoat. “The way you make me feel like there is still goodness in this world, _real_ goodness…”

“Oh, _really”_ Aziraphale said with a huff of sarcasm upon his lips.

 _“Really”_ Crowley said firmly, making his point clearer while he spun the chubby blonde around and pressed him against the bedside table. He locked eyes with the cherub and tilted his head with consideration. “I think you are _perfect”_ he said, no hint of deceit in his sly voice. Crowley then smiled and reached up to cup Aziraphale’s cheek in his palm, sighing sweetly as the angel pushed back into the caress.

No more words were spoken as they slowly saw to undressing each other. The only sounds heard were the slips and slides of fabric and then the whispers of flesh sliding across flesh. A gasp announced itself here and there. A hum, a moan, even a whimper was heard at one point. They basked in the simple pleasure of undressing one another, each feeling blessed that they were the one peeling clothes from the other. One by one, each item of clothing was shed, plucked off like a blushing petal and gently floating to the floor like autumn leaves upon green grass. Before long, they were both as naked as the day they were born and fell to the bed with a relaxed ease.

It was a bit surreal, how gentle and loving it all was. They had met at a strip club for heaven’s sake! Shouldn’t they be fucking hard and heavy by now?

Don’t get things wrong, the heat and passion was still there, of course it was. It is just that it had been turned down to a comfortable simmer, stewing away and solidifying into something more than just raw, hard sex. It didn’t take long in each other’s warm embrace for them to realise that what they were doing was _making love._

As they laid there in the soft bed with Crowley laid over Aziraphale, everything else vanished. The whole world melted away, disappearing into nothingness until there was nothing in existence but the two of them.

For once in his life, Aziraphale felt nothing but bliss. No pricking panic, no nagging self-deprecating thoughts. Crowley felt nothing but pleasure either. No irrational voice in his head telling him he was unworthy, no irrational thoughts to hold him back. For once in a very long time, they both felt peaceful. Peaceful as they rolled around the feather-soft duvet. Peaceful as they kissed and groped each other with wanting hands. Peaceful as they grew hard and started to grind their groins together.

With some regret, Crowley broke a heated kiss so he could speak. He smiled at the state of the Angel, loving how very dishevelled the blonde was, already looking spent even before climax. Crowley simply gazed down at him, enjoying the sight while he rocked his own slender hips gently, skimming his cock up and down along the underside of the other’s shorter yet wider one. The moans that he drew from the angel were so very moreish.

“What do you want?” Crowley asked, his voice hoarse with arousal.

“I want _you”_ Aziraphale whispered back, blue eyes glassy and lids heavy.

“No, that’s not what…” Crowley chuckled, leaning down to steal another kiss from those plump pink lips. “I want you too Angel. I meant how would you like to do this?” he asked and then smirked when Aziraphale had finally caught up to what he was asking.

“Oh!” the blonde declared, adorable face a flutter with blushes. “I, w-well… it’s been a while since I have done _that”_ he pushed his eyebrows together, biting his lip sheepishly. “Or, or since I’ve done _the other thing”_ he sighed then, worried eyes looking up, fearing being judged for having been untouched for years, apart from touching himself of course. “Oh, but you probably want to… I mean you-you-you.”

 _“Shhhhh...”_ Crowley cooed, smirking as he cupped Aziraphale’s cheek in his palm and gently rubbed their noses together. “We don’t have to do either of those, not right away at least” he grinned, hoping that they would do both of those things at some point as well as much, much more. “How about we just do _this?”_ he suggested, making his point known with another sinful roll of his thin hips. He hissed a breath in as his long cock slid over Aziraphale’s, coaxing out another lovely moan from the blonde.

“Ye-yes… th-that would be rather… _mmph…_ rather nice, dear” Aziraphale said with a breathy voice of his own.

 _“Mmm, good…_ I’m glad that is settled” Crowley flashed his lopsided grin again before he quickly snatched both of Aziraphale’s hands and held them above his golden mane, holding thick wrists captive against the pillow while he reached down between them to grasp their cocks with his other hand. Long, dexterous fingers coiled around both members, holding the undersides together like they were one.

Whatever protest Aziraphale was going to make about not having the use of his own hands was quickly forgotten as Crowley started to pump them in unison, stroking them up and down with long smooth movements.

 _“Ohmygoommpphh!”_ Aziraphale’s moan was cut off by a hard kiss, Crowley’s mouth taking control and eagerly pushing his tongue back into the warm cavern of Aziraphale’s mouth.

They moaned together, kisses electric from the vibrations. Wet tongues rolled in sync, dancing with each other in sinful motion, flickering faster and hungrier as Crowley’s hand worked up to a punishing pace. Before long, they were both locked in a whirl of tongues and teeth, groaning as they felt their orgasms come rushing towards them like a freight train at full speed.

Crowley was the first to bust, his lanky form tightening while his climax ruptured throughout him and then grew loose and limp after his seed had been wrung from him.

With the hold on his wrists having grown weak, Aziraphale took the chance to break free and reached down to take a possessive grip on Crowley’s slender hips. Blue eyes closed tight and chubby fingers dug into the taut skin, holding firmly and pushing the redhead down while he also thrusted his own curvy hips upwards. Aziraphale chased his own pleasure, fuelled by the hot sticky spend on his stomach and the gorgeous creature on top of him. Within seconds, he gasped and groaned long and loud, rutting like a wild beast as he erupted, adding his own liquid to the mess.

For a while afterwards, the two of them simply laid there, enjoying the warm comfort of their post-orgasmic glow. It wasn’t until the mess between them started to get too uncomfortable that they had to peel themselves away from the bed so they could clean up.

A few moments later and feeling very much like melted rubber, they returned to the bed and actually got under the covers this time. No words were said, but small kisses and knowing looks were exchanged while they snuggled close and warm.

They might still not know exactly all what had happened the night before, but they were both extraordinarily glad that they would remember _this_ night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who has left me comments on this fic. Thank you so very much, every word is truly appreciated and cherished. 
> 
> I will endeavor to reply to your comments soon, I promise. 
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up the next morning proves to be a delightful experience for our ineffable couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy some more fluff and smut, I think we all deserve some of this in our lives right now. 
> 
> <3 <3 <3

This time around, the morning after the night before was a much, much better experience than the previous one had been. For one, Aziraphale did not wake up to a blistering headache that was threatening to crack his skull in half and for two, he had the pleasure of waking up to the most beautiful sight in the entire world, a naked Anthony Crowley.

Aziraphale was a natural early bird and had been for as long as he could remember. When asked, he would simply say that there were better things to be doing than sleeping, like reading a good book or enjoying a deliciously buttery pastry, along with a freshly brewed cup of tea of course. The example didn’t really matter, but the reasoning behind it was still the same. In Aziraphale’s mind, there was always something more interesting or productive that one could be doing with the time than simply laying comatose in bed.

Upon rousing to the musical notes of the dawn chorus, the intellectual bookworm was promptly provided to yet another reason why sleeping in was a waste of time. Why spend the hours slumbering away when he could be laying right here, watching a sleeping Crowley and getting to enjoy the warmth of a limber body coiled around his fuller figure. Dreams could be magnificent things, but he was almost certain that his subconscious could never come up with something half as perfect as this.

With some effort, Aziraphale managed to reach into the draw of his bedside table and fished out a book and his reading glasses without waking the redhead. It was then that he was able to welcome hour after hour of being humoured by the whimsical words of Pratchett while also enjoying the warm, soothing presence of a sleeping Crowley.

Every now and then, Aziraphale would look away from the pages and would smile as he let his gaze wander over the gorgeous man beside him. He would sigh in content, breath momentarily taken away by how beautiful Crowley was, how radiant the long red hair was in the morning light and how smooth and soft his skin looked. Once again, Aziraphale was reminded of just how sinfully tempting the gorgeous Serpentarius was, which made it all the more surreal that he was actually in his apartment, in his bed for heaven’s sake.

It was sometime in the late morning that Aziraphale took another reading break in order to look down at the sleeping ginger. By some weird force of nature, Crowley seemed to be both a highly active sleeper yet also a very deep sleeper as well. The result of this of course was a tall, lanky, flexible creature that would twist and turn and extended long limbs in all sorts of weird and wonderful directions. He also seemed to be a very clingy being as well, gripping onto anything he could get his hands onto whether it be sheets, pillows or anything else really. For example, he was now hanging onto Aziraphale like a possum clinging to its mother. One long arm and one long leg was wrapped around the blonde’s pudgy body and his beautiful face was squished up against the soft belly, long nose buried in milky skin. The cream-coloured sheets were a total write off, all bundled up and half fallen off the bed, only a corner still covering their lower halves. Crowley mumbled something about stupid aardvarks, turning his head around and tossing the wild mane of curls about. He grumbled sleepily and gave the angel a squeeze before settling once more. Aziraphale smiled, finding the whole thing truly adorable.

With one hand holding the book, Aziraphale reached down to run his other hand over Crowley’s smooth back, his well-manicured fingers unable to resist the temptation any longer. Blue eyes forgot all about the written word, choosing instead to read the meaningful notes of scattered freckles. Soft pink lips smiled, eyes sparkling while he traced the pads of his fingertips across the flawless skin, slowly and softly drawing imaginary lines to connect the dots. Soon he found himself sighing in content, eyes heavy and half-lidded while he drew the pattern of Serpentarius over and over again until he lost count.

 _“Mmmmm…”_ Crowley purred out and sleepily nuzzled his cheek to Aziraphale’s naked belly. In response, the blonde giggled, tickled by the scratchy texture of Crowley’s stubble.

With an adorable grumble, the waking redhead squirmed and rolled around before yawning wider than any human being should be able to move their jaw. He then crackled his neck and blinked those bright brown eyes, looking up to be greeted by the adorable view of a naked Angel looking back at him, blue eyes sparkling from behind small round spectacles.

“You’ve got a face” Crowley sleepily mumbled.

“I do indeed” a bemused Aziraphale responded.

“It’s cute n’ stuff” the sleepy one continued, the filter between his brain and mouth still loading up for the day.

“Is that so?” Aziraphale asked and then chuckled as he reached down, tucking a frizzy curl behind Crowley’s ear. The redhead grumbled but didn’t do anything to stop the action.

“Mm-hmm” Crowley affirmed before performing another anatomically impossible yawn, stretching his lanky body while he was at it. “Wasssthetime?” he asked once he was done, melting like butter back over his pudgy companion.

“Oh, it’s um…” Aziraphale said, promptly closing his book and reaching to put it upon the bedside table and snatching up Crowley’s watch while he was at it. Blue eyes widened and then squinted as he observed the high-tech watch, trying to decipher all the different moving parts. “It’s um… seven pm? No that can’t be – oh that is Australia! Oh dear, how do I?” he asked as he pushed the glasses further up the bridge of his nose before trying again.

“Give it ‘ere” Crowley finally said, reaching out for the watch before Aziraphale had a mental breakdown. He flashed a smirk as the blonde handed it over, his cherubic face looking beyond grateful to be rid of the darn thing. Crowley chuckled and sat up just enough to be able to buckle the watch around his skinny wrist. “It’s ten am, Angel” He finally said after clicking a couple of buttons on the side.

“Hmm, yes that sounds about right” Aziraphale nodded, noting the intensity of the sunlight that was shining through the window. “I suppose we should probably get out of bed in that case.”

Now that Crowley had sat up, Aziraphale was free now to do the same, scooting himself up and back so that he was seated with his legs out in front of him and back against the headboard. He was just about to remove the small reading glasses when he was surprised by a long-fingered hand batting his own hand away from his face.

“Don’t!” Crowley huffed out like a petulant child, putting on a pout while he crawled up along Aziraphale’s body, smoothly straddling himself there, one skinny thigh slotting either side of thick hips. “I’ve always liked you in those glasses… you look so smart and sexy” he grinned.

After getting over the initial shock of Crowley being so forward, Aziraphale couldn’t help but chuckle, unable to hide the genuine smile that was curving his lips and lifting his chubby cheeks. Conjuring up some confidence of his own, Aziraphale reached out and took a gentle hold of Crowley’s slender hips, thumbs lightly teasing up and down the sharp hipbones.

“Hmm… and how did you already know how I look in these glasses?” the intelligent blonde asked, remembering that he had always put his reading glasses away before the great Serpentarius came out on stage. “I never wore these while you were dancing, dear boy.”

“I, um…” Crowley sputtered, his whole face suddenly turning as red as his hair. He squirmed in place, almost regretting that he had straddled the angel because he was somewhat trapped right now, pinned down by soft hands and being scrutinised by the depths of those ocean blue eyes.

“I may have… possibly… sometimes… “ Crowley started, his voice then trailing off in a string of incoherent mumbles.

“You what, dear? Speak up” Aziraphale said, tightening the grip on those skinny hips and sending a shiver up along that long, limber spine.

“I used to watch you, from backstage” Crowley said just above a whisper, bitting his lower lip and sheepishly looking down. He dipped his head down just enough so his hair fell over his face, covering at least a part of his embarrassment.

“And here I thought that _I_ was the one who was the pervert” Aziraphale said, instantly cringing at his own decision to use the word _pervert._ He was just about to apologise for being crude when Crowley reached out, smoothing his long fingers over Aziraphale’s bare chest.

“We can be perverts together then” Crowley said, a smirk blooming upon his blushing face while he gently combed his nails through the fluffiest chest hair he has ever seen.

“Hmmm, I guess I can work with that” Aziraphale teased back, making sure to pair it with a smile. He may still be getting back into the swing of flirting, but the more he was doing it the more he was remembering how _fun_ it is.

“Good” Crowley said, amusing himself by swirling patterns over the Angel’s chest and lightly rocking his own hips as he did so. Aziraphale hummed in approval, gently running his hands up and down the smooth long flanks of the redhead’s bitching body.

“Sooo… what should we do now?” Crowley asked, his mind filling with all the deliciously sinful things they could be doing. Now that they had opened the metaphorical flood gates of their passion, he was sure as hell not going to let it close again.

 _“Hmm…”_ the Angel hummed with pensive thought. “Well I am a bit peckish” he offered, the words pouring from his lips before he realised that Crowley was digging for something a bit more X-rated than _breakfast._

After a moment, Crowley lifted one of those slender eyebrows into a suggestive arch and hummed his own agreement. “Hmmm, you know what? Now that you mention it, I am feeling rather _peckish_ myself” he said and then made a show of licking his lips while he trailed his fingers down towards the Angel’s groin.

“Oh!... _oh my…”_ Aziraphale breathed, frozen in place while the sensuous redhead crawled backwards and started kissing over his lower abdomen. Aziraphale licked his own lips, blue eyes watching through a mist of lust, unable to look away as Crowley made his way south.

Two sounds were heard as Crowley’s lips finally made contact with Aziraphale’s cock, a shocked gasp and an approving hum. Crowley grinned, humming again when he opened his lips and placed a wetter smooch upon the mushroomed tip. Another gasp escaped the Angel followed by a soft, pleasurable moan. He vaguely remembered how it felt to have his cock sucked, but was it always _this_ fucking good?

Any other thoughts were wiped from Aziraphale’s mind when Crowley opened his mouth and took Aziraphale’s length all the way inside. The Angel groaned, closing his eyes and reaching down to grasp handfuls of crimson hair. Crowley responded in kind to the action, humming along as those thick fingers pulled on his hair.

Aziraphale felt like he was in heaven. Like he was sitting on nothing but air and clouds. He watched through narrowed eyes, lids heavy with arousal while he enjoyed the spectacular sight before him. Crowley looked so fucking gorgeous, head bouncing and hair springing, thin lips opened wide and willing. Aziraphale watched keenly as his thick cock disappeared into that inviting mouth over and over again, each time bringing a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Every now and then a pair of soulful brown eyes looked up to him, each time taking away whatever breath he still had left. Those knowing eyes would sparkle with mirth, enjoying the picture of a needy angel before flicking down again while he increased his pace.

When Aziraphale could feel himself getting close, he tightened the grip in Crowley’s hair, tugging a little to get his attention. “I’m gonna… gonna…” he breathed out, wanting to at least warn the marvellous cocksucker that he was about to bust a load straight down his throat. It has been a while, but he still recalled that that sort of thing was not everyone’s cup of tea. It was only polite to give fair warning.

But Crowley did not back away at the warning. If anything, the tug of the hair and the knowledge that the angel was close did nothing but spur him on. Crowley’s slender hands grabbed onto Aziraphale’s generous hips as he bunkered down and went hell for leather, impaling himself faster and deeper onto the deliciously chubby cock. He didn’t stop, not breaking for breath until he felt that twitching against his tongue and the hot squirts of cum shooting down his throat. He groaned in approval, sucking out every single drop he could get and swallowing it down like it was liquid gold.

When Crowley was finally done with him, Aziraphale was a blabbering, incoherent mess. Reduced to nothing but an exhausted puddle upon the soft cream sheets.

 _“Mmm, scrumptious…”_ the redhead dared to say, those brown eyes sparkling mischievously as he looked up from between generous thighs, humming in content while he nuzzled his cheek to the soft, sensitive flesh.

Aziraphale simply smiled, happy to just look down at that beautiful face and to stroke the long crimson hair with his fingers. He breathed in deep. Even the air seemed to taste sweeter in that moment.

“Well, I’ve had _my_ breakfast” Crowley smirked with a wink. “I _guess_ we should get you some toast or something” he said before suddenly springing up and heading to leave the bed.

“Oh no you don’t!” Aziraphale declared, springing up just as fast and capturing the lithe sprite before he could get away.

Crowley eeped, surprised by the blonde’s strength. He struggled only a little in playful protest while he was manhandled, finally being pinned on his back to the bed.

“Is that a no to toast then?” Crowley said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, do be quite you _wily devil,_ it’s my turn now” Aziraphale retorted, making Crowley laugh in response.

The laughing immediately stopped once the pair of soft pink lips were open and sucking around his long stiff cock.

Crowley did indeed be quite then. At least for a couple of minutes.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waking up in such a lovely manner, Aziraphale and Crowley get on with the rest of their day.
> 
> In other words, reality catches up to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, ready for the drama people?
> 
> I hope so, cause here it is.
> 
> Don't worry, I will fix it soon.
> 
> <3

“I borrowed another one of your shirts, I hope you don’t mind” Crowley said, buttoning up the light blue shirt as he walked into the bookshop’s backroom.

“Of course, that is – “ Aziraphale started saying, blue eyes adequately distracted as he looked up from the morning paper he was reading. His soft lips curved into a small smile as he let his sight wash over Crowley’s body. The sight of his new lover wearing his shirt was doing wonderful things to him. “That is quite alright my dear, although I wouldn’t be opposed to you wearing _no shirt at all_ either.”

Crowley chuckled at the bratty response as he tucked the shirt into his tight pants.

“I think I like this side to you, Angel. So feisty!” he grinned and flashed a wink while he reached back to tie his long hair up into a loose bun.

“Feisty?... oh _really”_ the conservative blonde said, feigning being utterly mortified by the notion. He put on a frown and flicked the newspaper up, going back to reading. He may or may not have been hiding a smile.

Crowley smirked as he took a seat across the table from Aziraphale and plucked up a discarded section of the paper, rejoicing that it was the classifieds. He always loved seeing what other people were selling or wanting to buy, there was always something in there more interesting than his own mind could ever come up with.

For several minutes, the two of them just sat in silence while they both read. It was kind of strange really, just how comfortable they were doing something so simple and domestic.

“Shall I put the kettle on, Angel?” Crowley said eventually, after he had had a good chuckle at a bold advertisement which was encouraging people to join an army of witch finders.

“Oh dear, where _are_ my manners?” Aziraphale said in a worried voice, instantly springing up from his seat. “You probably want something to eat as well, how rude of me!”

“It’s okay, no stress” Crowley said, already reaching for the kettle to fill it up with water.

“No no, I should be the one… “ Aziraphale started to mumble on about Crowley being his guest just as the telephone started to ring in the bookshop. 

“Oh dear” Aziraphale frowned, torn between being a good host and being a good shop owner.

“Go answer the phone, Angel. I got this” Crowley said, nodding his head towards the telephone to make his point clear. “Go on, shoo.” He then grinned while the frumpy blonde resigned to go answer the phone.

……….

“Hello? I’m afraid we are quite _definitely_ closed” Aziraphale said in cheerful though firm manner.

“Oh, Anathema!” his face lifted with genuine joy at realising it was his friend. “Good morning my dear, how are you?”

He sat down at his desk and made little hmms and ahhs of interest as he listened to his friend.

“M-hmm, oh yes I am rather sorry my dear, my mobile telephone got lost for a moment, I’m sorry for not replying to your text messages… oh the date?... hmm well, I’m afraid that didn’t…” Aziraphale was starting to say just as Crowley peeked his head around the corner, calling out across the room.

“You want tea or coffee, Angel?”

“Oh, um. Tea please, dear, thank you.”

“Rodger that!” Crowley said before disappearing again.

“Hmm, what was that dear?” Aziraphale asked Anathema, not quite hearing what she had just said.

“Oh no no, that’s not… that wasn’t Gabriel just now dear. I’m sorry to say this, but Gabriel turned out to be rather a rotten egg I’m afraid” he said, frowning even from saying the man’s name.

“That… well that was umm… that was Crowley” He blushed as he said it, whispering the next words. “Serpentarius… you know, _the dancer…_ yes, well he turns out to be rather lovely actually… he even rescued me from… well from a most unpleasant experience.”

Aziraphale then went on to give a brief description of what had happened on that night, how the date with Gabriel had gone so horribly wrong and how Crowley was there to save the day.

“Oh, my dear, it wasn’t _your_ fault, you couldn’t have known…” He soothed his friend, her feeling just awful that she was the one to have set him up with Gabriel in the first place.

“It all turned out well in the end… but um, I’m afraid I should be going now, I wouldn’t want to be rude to Crowley, he is making me tea apparently” he said, his cheeks ripe and rosy.

He giggled at something that his friend said and nodded his head in agreement. “Yes dear, I will tell you all about it later… you have a lovely day, talk to you later. Goodbye” he said politely before hanging up.

He took a moment to take in a breath and feel his flushed cheeks with his hands. This was all feeling rather surreal if he was honest with himself. So, he took a moment before returning to the backroom where both tea and Crowley were waiting for him, both steaming hot.

……….

“So um, do you have any plans today, dear?” Aziraphale asked after he finished a light meal of beans on toast that they had whipped up to go with their tea and coffee.

“Uhh, nothing important really… I was gonna sus out the dry cleaner place that this ticket stub came from, I think my shirt might be there” Crowley said, looking at the slither of paper before stashing it back into his pocket.

“I should probably go home too, water my plants and stuff” Crowley added, downing the last sip of coffee from his mug.

“Oh yes of course, I wouldn’t want them to wilt and acquire spots, the poor things” Aziraphale said, feeling somewhat guilty that he had been occupying Crowley’s time. He would not want the plants to suffer, they were living things after all.

“Heh, they wouldn’t _dare”_ Crowley said to himself in a low voice, remembering the good talking too he had given them the last time they dared to be less than perfect.

“What about you, Angel?” Crowley asked, languidly leaning back in his chair, dangerously balancing it on the back two legs.

“I suppose I should open shop, for a few hours at least” he said with a sigh, not really liking the idea of doing so. If it wasn’t for the unfortunate necessity of needing an income, he would quite happily never flip that sign to open.

“When are you working next, dear?” the blonde asked before he could stop himself.

“I quit” Crowley said with a half-chuckle. “You were there, remember? I don’t think they would want me waiting tables anymore after leaving halfway through that shift anyway.”

“Oh yes, quite right” Aziraphale said, tilting his head in a curious fashion. “But I _was_ referring to your _other_ job, dear. Are you dancing tonight?”

“Ah, that” Crowley said flatly, setting his chair back down onto all four legs. “I sort of, might have, quit that job as well” he said, purposefully averting eye contact with the blonde.

“You _what?!”_ blonde eyebrows pushed together with concern as Aziraphale stared at the redhead across the table, dumbfounded. “When? How? _Why?”_

“Errrruuuggg, it doesn’t really matter, has been a while coming now if I’m being honest, should have quit months ago” Crowley shrugged, looking down into the depths of his empty mug.

“Well… you have to do what is right for you I suppose” Aziraphale said, inspecting his own empty cup. “But, I am glad that you didn’t quit months ago… otherwise I wouldn’t have met you.”

“Yeah, that’s true…” Crowley said with a smile, thinking back on the first time he saw the angel’s haloed crown at the back of the club.

There was suddenly a still silence in the room, both men not quite knowing what to say in that moment. They knew that they both had things to be doing, but neither of them seemed to want to say or do anything because that would mean they would part. Eventually Crowley spoke after clearing his throat with a cough.

 _“Sooo,_ I suppose I should… y’know” Crowley said, breathing out a sigh while he lifted himself up out of the chair.

“Oh yes, of course… please, don’t let me keep you…” the polite bookshop owner said, rising and walking the handsome redhead out across the store and to the front door.

“Do mind how you go dear boy” Aziraphale said, chivalrously opening the door and watching Crowley step out.

“Yeah, yeah thanks” Crowley said, stashing his hands into his pockets as he stood on the pavement outside. He went to turn around, but then turned back before the door closed. “Hey, Angel?”

“Yes dear?” Aziraphale said a little too fast, smile shining bright with hope.

“Would you, ah… wana come ‘round mine for dinner tonight?” Crowley asked, speaking faster than normal before he chickened out. “I mean, only if you – “

“I’d love to” Aziraphale said, smile brighter than the sun itself.

“Ah, good, great, it’s a date then”

“Indeed, it is.”

“See you later, Angel”

“Toodle-oo.”

Then the door finally closed.

 _“Toodle-oo”_ Crowley said to himself with a chuckle while he strutted to his car, amused to no end by the adorable nature of the blonde.

He had only just left the man and already he couldn’t wait to see him again.

……….

For the rest of the day Crowley was on cloud nine.

True, he had quit not one bit two jobs in the last fortnight and perhaps even burnt bridges in the process, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of pure bliss that was currently warming him from inside out.

The way Aziraphale made him feel was unlike anything he had felt in his whole life. Sure, he had been in love before, but it never felt this strong so fast. Furthermore, he had never felt this nervous about a man before either.

Crowley new that he was smoking hot, that was just a fact of nature. So, he had always been so confident that everyone wanted him, so much so that he never really fussed or fretted about an upcoming date before. Usually all he had to do was show up and the rest would sort itself out.

That was until a certain angel came along.

Even as Crowley exited the dry cleaners with his freshly cleaned and pressed shirt hanging over his shoulder, he could feel the uncomfortable flutter of butterflies flying around his stomach.

The butterflies stayed with him for the rest of the day, dancing in a whirl of anxious excitement while he went grocery shopping for making dinner and to the liquor store to get a nice bottle of something better than the ten pound white he had in the fridge.

After completing those few errands, he blasted Queen through his stereo system and got down to giving his apartment a good deep clean.

As a rule, Crowley was a relatively neat person to begin with, so the place didn’t need too much work. But still, that didn’t stop the frantic redhead from washing the walls and vacuuming every nook and cranny he could reach. He only had one shot at making this first impression and he didn’t want to blow it.

At around three o’clock he received a text message from Aziraphale, asking if he should bring anything with him. With a bright smile on his face, Crowley texted back saying that all he needed to bring was his handsome self. He also sent through his address and decided on a time.

An hour before the Angel was set to arrive, those blasted butterflies were now doing advanced aerodynamic stunts in his gut, almost to the point of feeling sick. With a shake of his head, he took in a few deep breathes and calmed himself enough to have a shower and get himself ready.

……….

With ten minutes to spare, Crowley was all set and ready. 

The apartment was spotless and smelled like the chicken pot pie which was cooling in the kitchen. The lighting was dimmed, and the soft melody of smooth jazz danced through the air.

In hopes to catch Aziraphale off guard with a sexy surprise, Crowley was dressed in nothing but Aziraphale’s blue shirt and a pair of his own seven-inch stiletto boots. He grinned as he looked at himself in the mirror, making sure that his makeup was in order and that his long red hair was perfect. He imagined how bright the angel would blush while he applied one final layer of his crimson lipstick.

When he heard the buzz of the intercom go off, he almost jumped right out of his skin.

“Right, right… okay, calm down…” he said to himself while he rushed over to the intercom box. “Come right up!” he said into the speaker before pressing the button to open the main entrance of the complex.

After opening the front door up enough for his date to be able to let himself in, Crowley rushed over to his leather sofa and arranged himself into the most evocative position he could think of. He sat there with his bare ass on the arm, legs parted and one foot up on the couch. Aziraphale’s shirt hung loose and baggy upon his skinny figure, buttons open so his assets were on full display.

He could feel his heart beating faster in his chest as he heard footsteps coming closer, a long breath sucked in as the door started to open.

“Wow! what a treat to come home to” the familiar American accent called out, washing over Crowley and almost knocking him completely off the couch.

“Lucius!” Crowley squeaked out, eyes wide in shock while his brain tried to catch up with what was happening.

Lucius chuckled in amusement while he came in and set his bags down.

“Well, don’t I get a kiss hello?” Lucius said, flashing a bright natural smile that spoke volumes of how happy he was to see Crowley.

“Umm, oh!... yeah, of course” Crowley said, shaking his head out of it. The heels clicked on the concrete floor while he began to walk over, but then stopped as he realised what he was doing.

“Ah, sorry. Just, just give me a moment would ya? I need to, ah… I’ll be right back” Crowley said before spinning and scurrying off into the bedroom.

By the time he had cursed himself with every swear word he could think of and dressed himself in his bathrobe, he returned back into the living room to find Lucius seated on the lounge and holding a large bouquet of red roses. Crowley blinked, not recalling him having had those a moment ago.

“Flowers? That’s not like you, Luci” Crowley said, curiously frowning.

“Ah, yeah, it wasn’t. Some delivery guy just dropped them off for you” he said, nodding towards the front door. “Weird though, he didn’t look like a delivery guy.”

Crowley suddenly felt numb, heart stopping all together.

“He didn’t happen do be blonde did he? About yea high” he said, holding his hand up to about Aziraphale’s height. “Bow tie?”

“Yeah, how did you – “ Lucius was saying, not able to finish his thought before Crowley was rushing out the front door.

“Shit, fuck!” Crowley swore as he rushed down the hallway and bashed at the elevator button.

He was very close to running down the stairs, but decided that it was not the wisest thing to do in those heels.

By the time he finally got down to the lobby, he was running out onto the street, screaming out Aziraphale’s name like a mad man in a bathrobe.

“FUCK!” He screamed out, not seeing any sign of the Angel anywhere.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he sighed, glaring at a few random people while he adjusted his robe and retreated back inside.

……….

Back in the apartment, Lucius was leaning forward, looking down at the beautiful roses in his hands.

“So… he wasn’t a delivery man, was he?” Lucius asked while Crowley came back inside, closing the front door behind him.

“Nope” Crowley replied, emphasising the p.

“We need to talk, don’t we?” the American asked.

“Yup” Crowley agreed.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Lucius back, how will things pan out for our love birds?
> 
> The Angst continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry guys, the angst does not stop just yet.
> 
> Full steam ahead on the Feels Train - next stop, Depression City.
> 
> It will be okay everyone, promise to fix it next chapter.
> 
> <3

Crowley and Lucius talked for hours, one of those deep and meaningful discussions that felt like it would never end. Eventually it did end, but not until they had crossed off all the important topics. They talked about many things including what had happened with Armageddon and about what was going on with Aziraphale, but most of all they talked about their relationship. They discussed in full detail how although they did care greatly for each other, it was just not feasible for them to continue as a couple anymore. It was not fair for Crowley to sit around waiting for when Lucius returned and it was clear that Lucius had no intention to permanently settle down in London. So, it was with a heavy heart that they mutually decided to part ways.

“So, I guess that’s that then” Lucius said with a sigh, sadness twinkling in his tired eyes.

“Yeah, I guess it is” Crowley affirmed, returning the gaze with his own melancholy look.

“I guess I should get going then, check myself into a hotel” Lucius said as he took his phone out of his pocket, opening a window to search for nearby hotels.

“No, I should” Crowley suddenly said, the reality of everything coming down on his shoulders. “This is _your_ place, Luci, I should be the one to go.”

At that, Lucius let a soft chuckle escape his lips, a kindness in his eyes as he looked up from his top of the rang smartphone. “I think we both know this has always been _your_ place, Red. We will have to sort out some paperwork to make it legit, but this is your home.”

Crowley went to open his mouth to argue but was suddenly stopped by a stern look from Lucius, a familiar look which wordlessly said that he was not in the mood for discussing it. Lucius was a stubborn man when he had his mind set on something, and this was something he most _definitely_ had decided on.

“We will also have to fill out some stuff for the club as well, come to think of it” Lucius added, looking back down to his phone and tapping a few things.

“Come again?” Crowley asked, a slender eyebrow quirking high with curiosity. “Why would we need to do that?”

“Oh, _come on”_ Lucius said, chuckling to himself again while he finished booking a room and then put his phone away. He leaned back on the sofa and regarded his now former lover. “Armageddon would have never existed if it wasn’t for you, babe. I should have put it in both of our names to begin with, but better late than never, eh?”

Crowley’s eyes widened, his brain suddenly going a million miles an hour after hearing that he not only would own his apartment but also half of The Geddon. Knowing that Lucius wouldn’t budge on the idea, he sputtered out a stream of incoherent syllables before dropping his head into his hands, rubbing his face with his palms.

 _“Fuck Lucius,_ you want to give me anything else? The Mona Lisa would be nice” Crowley resorted to humour, unable to deal with all the seriousness that was happening.

“Nah, I think I will leave that to this new lover boy of yours” Lucius threw back with a grin, enjoying the familiar banter which Crowley was always good for.

“Heh, right” Crowley huffed. “Something tells me that’s gonna be a lost cause, don’t know if he’s even gonna talk to me after tonight.” Crowley leaned back and looked down at his hands, absentmindedly picking at some fluff on his bathrobe.

Lucius just watched Crowley for a moment, old wise eyes roaming over the slender redhead he knew so well. “You really like him, don’t you?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, yeah I really do” Crowley nodded, sucking in a deep breath. “I think he might even be _the one._ Bit stupid, hey?”

Many thoughts went through Lucius’ head while he watched Crowley, recognising a spark in the ginger that he had not seen in years.

“Come here, babe” He said with a cock of his head, opening his arms to invite Crowley in for a hug.

With a sigh, Crowley scooted closer to Lucius on the couch, turning around so that he could lean back and let those strong arms embrace him. It felt nice to have that warmth around him, a comforting weight to calm his anxiety.

“You are a hell of a catch, Red. And this guy would be a fool to let you slip through his fingers. Trust me, I know from experience” Lucius said, hugging Crowley tight and pressing a soft kiss into the mane of ruby hair.

“Well… I _am_ a catch, that’s true” Crowley tried to smile, burying his face into Lucius’ arm.

“That you are Red, that you are.”

……….

No matter what Aziraphale did, he could not get the image of Lucius of out his mind.

Of course, he did not actually know that the guy’s name was Lucius, but that did not change the fact that every time he closed his eyes, he would see his face right there, handsome and confident and answering the door to Crowley’s flat.

For what seemed like the millionth time, Aziraphale replayed the whole thing in his mind, torturing himself with every painful detail.

He had been buzzing with nervous excitement the entire way from the bookstore to Crowley’s place, his whole body tingling from head to toe. He clenched the bouquet of roses in his hands to stop them from shaking, breathing deeply the sweet floral scent which wafted from the crimson petals. He had been so happy when he had purchased them, practically glowing when he had handed the money over to the florist. She had smiled back to him, wishing him luck on a date that she was certain he was heading to. With a blush to match the blooms, he had muttered his thanks as he went.

The seconds between knocking on the door and it opening was the longest seconds he had experienced in his entire life, him standing up straight and centring himself, ready to see his new lover.

 _Lover,_ he thought to himself. Yes, he quite liked being able to use that word.

His bright smile faltered as he set eyes on who actually answered the door, some tall, well-aged American who greeted him with a smile and a cheerful “Hey, can I help you?”

Aziraphale had squinted in confusion while he took a double take of the door number, instantly wondering if he had gotten something wrong.

“Ahh, um… hello… yes… is ah… I mean… does Anthony Crowley live here?” he finally managed to get out.

“Yeah, he’s in our bedroom” the American had said casually, pointing that way with his finger over his shoulder. “Are those for him?” he added, pointing said finger then at the beautiful flowers.

_Our._

_Our_ bedroom?

Aziraphale was sure that in that instant every drop of blood rushed from his face, leaving it as pale as the first snow of winter. This man, whoever he was, lived with Anthony, slept in the same bedroom. _Oh dear,_ what had he gotten himself into?

With some trouble, he forced a swallow down his throat and nodded.

“Great, thanks” the man had said, leaning forward and taking the roses from his hands. “I’ll make sure he gets them. Do I have to sign anything, or?...”

It was then that Aziraphale clued into the fact that this guy was under the impression that he was there to deliver the flowers. He most definitely didn’t seem to think that he was there for a date. With both his head and heart on the verge of a total breakdown, Aziraphale had simply snook his head and forced out a simple “N-no. Please, please enjoy the flowers” in a meek voice and then turned, heading back the way he came.

He felt numb, completely separated from the rest of the world as he left the building. His feet must have been on autopilot because his brain didn’t register where he was going until he had stepped back into the safety of his bookshop.

He walked directly into his backroom and sat down in his armchair, still dressed in his hat and overcoat. He blinked and just stared ahead of him, the numbness engulfing him completely.

Part of him must have recognised that feeling nothing at all would be better than the heartache which was inevitably about to come.

……….

“Pick up Angel, _please pick up…”_ Crowley said to himself not for the first time that night, phone against his ear and hope in his heart. 

“Shit! Fuck!” he yelled, met again with nothing but an answering machine message.

“Please, _please_ call me back Angel. I fucked up, I know I fucked up, but I can fix it too, please let me fix it. Just, just _call me back”_ he said after the beep, holding on the line for a couple for moments before sighing and ending the call.

That was the tenth time he had called Aziraphale that night and the tenth time he had left a voice message. The dial tone had rung the first few times he had called the Angel, but now all it did was go straight to the voice mail. From that, Crowley surmised that Aziraphale must have switched his mobile off. Even so, that didn’t stop Crowley from calling again and again as well as sending several text messages. After hours of trying, he even went so far as to google the landline number for A.Z. Fell and Co. and gave that a handful of tries. When it finally hit three am, Crowley hit his bed face down, falling asleep with his mobile phone still in hand.

……….

Aziraphale could not sleep a wink.

Aziraphale could not do most things really, including eating or drinking.

The first few times his mobile telephone had rung, he had stared at the name _Crowley_ flashing on the screen the entire time, watching in silence until it eventually stopped and then went black. He did wonder what it was that Crowley would say, but he wasn’t sure that he was ready to listen.

As far as Aziraphale was concerned, Crowley was taken. That man was obviously his partner, a fact that Crowley had never revealed to him. So, what was it that Crowley could possibly want to say? That he was sorry for leading him on? That he had broken up with his boyfriend? That he wanted them all to have some sort of polyamorous thing?

No, Aziraphale was certainly not ready for any of those possibilities.

After the third call he had turned his phone off with the hope that it might make him feel better, which it did not. He still found himself glancing over to the little black brick every five minutes, even though it was quite impossible for a call to ring when it was totally shut down.

Close to midnight he was still seated in his backroom and was half distracted by a novel he was reading when the shop’s landline rang. He jumped and frowned, wondering who would possibly ring a bookshop this late at night? And then it dawned on him, _it was Crowley._

Aziraphale rose from his chair and walked over to the phone. He reached out and hovered his palm over the handle, just floating there while it rang out. Once it finally stopped, he sighed and then took his reading glasses off, squinting and pinching the bridge of his nose.

It was then that he decided to take himself upstairs and to hide away in his bedroom, sinking under the covers and burying his nose into book after book.

If he couldn’t sleep, he could at least try to lose himself in a fictional world.

Anything was better than reality.

……….

Crowley slept most of the next day away, he too not wanting to wake up and have to deal with the depressing reality which he was living.

While he finally had decided to stop bombarding Aziraphale with calls and text messages, he did not want to give up hope without giving it one last shot. So, at around four in the afternoon he pulled his sorry ass up and took himself over to the bookshop in person.

He stood there on the pavement, tired eyes looking at the door through his black shades.

_Closed due to stocktaking.  
Apologies, A.Z. Fell._

Crowley stared at the little handwritten note which hung under the more prominent _Closed_ sign. _Stocktaking…_ well, wasn’t that just hitting the nail on the head?

He went to knock on the door, but he could not quite bring himself to doing it. Aziraphale had made it quite clear that he did not want to talk to him, so what use was badgering him going to do? No, that didn’t seem like the right way to go about things.

So, with a heavy heart, Crowley scribbled down onto a piece a paper and slipped it under the door. He then sighed, stuffed his hands into his pockets and left.

It was all up to the Angel now.

……….

It was late that evening when Aziraphale felt okay enough to go down and make himself some cocoa. With any luck, the warmth and sugar would help him to feel more human.

As he was heading back to the stairs to go up to his bedroom, he caught a glimpse of something white near the shop’s front door. With a curious look, he walked over and picked it up, turning it over to see what it was all about.

He felt his heart stop and his breath catch in his throat as he read the message.

_Aziraphale,_  
_If there is any part of you which still wants any part of me, meet me tomorrow at noon, St James Park, near the duck pond.  
\- Crowley _


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley waits at St James Park and prays that Aziraphale will make an appearance.
> 
> Will his Angel come?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Ineffables! 
> 
> So, this is the last chapter of the main story. My apologies for the short word count, but I felt that this just works nicely.
> 
> Chapter 17 I intend to be an epilogue to tie everything up in a nice pretty bow. 
> 
> Hoping you are all well.
> 
> <3 <3 <3

Despite the miserable gloom that was seeded within Crowley, the day itself was a rather pleasant one. The sun was out, shining happily in a sky of clear, cloudless blue. If it had been any other day, Crowley might have even enjoyed the way the sunbeams washed over him, making his skin warm and bringing colour to his cheeks. As it were, no amount of chirping birds or fluttering butterflies could distract him from the fact that his whole world depended on whether a certain blonde would show up to a certain park.

Crowley was already at a certain park, seated on a certain bench next to a certain duck pond. The duck pond was fine, it was doing what all duck ponds did, looking cool and inviting as a variety of feathered creatures bobbed along on its surface, splashing and quacking happily as they often did. Crowley glared at them from where he sat hunched over, legs spread and elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together in front of him. He hated the ducks, jealous of their blissful ignorance. They could let the water slide of their backs with ease, why couldn’t he?

Unable to focus on anything else, Crowley had arrived at the park early. Every few minutes he would look down at his watch for the time, then he would scan his shaded sight around the park to see if maybe the angel had arrived yet. Each time he did, there was no angel. He would sigh and check his watch again, reminding himself that it was not noon yet, there was still time. However, no matter many times he reminded himself, it did not stop his hands from fidgeting nor his knee from bouncing with nervous energy. He felt like a ticking time bomb, his fuse getting shorter and shorter the closer it got to twelve o’clock. The question was, would he completely implode or would Aziraphale show up and defuse him?

As the seconds ticked down to noon, he could feel the whole world dissolving around him. The sounds of quacking ducks and giggling children faded away, the warm rays of the sun melting, the smell of flowers ceasing… all there was now was the time on his watch ticking and the ball of gloom within him growing to an unbearable size. When it finally hit noon, he sighed and placed his head in his hands, all but pulling his hair out from the roots.

He knew that he should look up, to see if Aziraphale was there. But it was noon now and he was afraid that if he looked up and he was not there, well that would mean that he would never see the handsome angel ever again. Crowley wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.

He breathed in deep, trying to muster up the courage to face the situation when suddenly he felt a presence next to him, a bend to the wood beneath him as another weight sat down on the bench. In a daze, he lifted his head from his hands and turned his face to see what it was. As he looked to the side, he could not help but blink over and over, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him.

There sitting beside him, was _Aziraphale._

……….

“I have only come to feed the ducks” Aziraphale said with some forced calmness. He tried to look nonchalant as he removed his cream-coloured top hat from his head and opened the little bag of grain he had brought with him. He didn’t look at Crowley, instead just busying himself with tossing the grain out over the pond, watching as the ducks came to feast. “I would make it quick if I was you, I only brought a small bag.”

“Right” Crowley said before he took a deep breath in. He sighed an exhale and lifted himself up to sit proper on the bench, running his fingers through his long hair while he decided how he was going to start. Time was off the essence it seemed, so he needed every single word to count.

At first, he didn’t know where to start. So, he simply looked out across the pond and started talking, from the beginning. That seemed like the most logical place to start.

“I met Lucius years ago, back when I first moved to London. He is the owner of Armageddon and he was my first long-term partner” Crowley looked down to his hands then as he continued. “We lived together for a while, but then he left for work. He travels a lot you see, and every time he left it was for longer and longer periods of time. Eventually I realised that that was no way for a relationship to be, it’s not fair, for either person.”

“I hadn’t seen Lucius in over ten months when I met you and if I’m being completely honest, it never came across my mind to mention him. Because when I’m with you, it’s like…” Crowley choked on his words, shifting uncomfortably on the bench and crossing his arms, stashing his hands under his armpits. “It’s like there’s no one else in the world, like it’s just you and me… does that make any sense? Fuck, it doesn’t, does it?” he said with a huff, asking himself more than asking the blonde beside him.

Aziraphale kept silent, calm and stoic while he fished into the bag for more grain, tossing it across the water and watching as more larger birds now came to eat, large beautiful swans floating with ease across the water.

“Anyway, I know I should have mentioned him, that was my first fuck up. My second fuck up was not calling him and breaking it off the very moment I met you. I don’t know about you, but… I have never felt about anyone the way I feel about you, never felt the way I feel when I’m around you. It is like… shit, I can’t explain it, but all I know is that I don’t want it to stop. I want to be with you, Aziraphale” He sniffed, feeling a few tears starting to well in his eyes. He was grateful for the shades he was wearing.

 _“Jesus,_ I’m baring my whole fucking soul here, Angel” he said, his knee beginning to bounce like crazy again. “I’ve called it off with Lucius, called it off for good. And I hope to _god_ that you can forgive me. Because I am _so fucking sorry_ and I would do anything, _anything_ to make it up to you. Just… just give me a second chance… _please…”_ He swallowed then and hung his head, falling into uncomfortable silence. He had said his piece, said all that he could. Now it was all up to Aziraphale. He buzzed inside as the blonde continued to feed the ducks.

The two of them sat in awkward silence for another minute while Aziraphale fed the ducks the last of the grain. Once the bag was empty, he shook the last few grains from his hat and then rose from the bench, setting the hat back on top of his head. Wordlessly and with a neutral face, he brushed his jacket sleeves and straightened his bowtie, even though it was already perfectly straight.

“I think I would like some lunch now” Aziraphale said, turning to walk away.

“Right, yeah” Crowley said, a deep sorrow filling him while he looked down to the ground. _Of course he wasn’t forgiven._ What he had done was unforgiveable and he did not blame the angel at all for not wanting to have anything to do with him ever again.

And then Aziraphale stopped, having just taken a few steps away from the bench. He turned to look at Crowley from over his shoulder and then said the most beautiful words that Crowley had ever heard in his entire life.

“Are you coming, dear?” Aziraphale asked, his voice soft and warm like the sunlight surrounding them.

“I… errgg… huh?” Crowley spat out, unpoetically.

“If we go now, we might even be able to get a table at the Ritz” Aziraphale said, an innocent smile on his face. He beamed as he turned to Crowley, holding a hand out towards him.

Crowley just stared at the offered hand like it was a mythical creature. He wasn’t sure why it was there, why he deserved to have it offered to him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to miss this chance. So, he stood up, willed his shaky legs to walk and took a hold of the angel’s hand.

Aziraphale smiled, linking their arms together and lead the way along the path.

“You’re wearing a top hat” Crowley said after a few quiet moments of pure awe, only now feeling his spirit return to his body.

“I am indeed, well spotted dear” Aziraphale said in a matter of fact tone.

“Do you have a walking stick as well?” Crowley asked, a hint of jest in his voice.

“I do actually, it’s at home beside my umb – _oh,_ you are teasing me again, aren’t you?” he asked, looking sheepishly to Crowley who just smirked back at him. “I shall have to get used to that.”

“Good thing we have all the time in the world, Angel. _All the time” _Crowley said, lifting up Aziraphale’s hand and placing a kiss to the back of it.__

__The two of them exchanged knowing looks, both smiling and then falling into a relaxed silence as they continued down the path, onwards to their future._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry everyone, I plan to have some nice fluff and a good final dose of smut in the epilogue. I want to leave you all well satisfied :) 
> 
> Thank you, lovelies. 
> 
> <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue.
> 
> Join our favorite boys in celebration of their six-month anniversary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are guys, the end of another ineffable story.
> 
> I would like to take this chance to thank you all for joining me in this journey and for all of the supportive kudos and comments along the way.
> 
> Thank you so much everyone, I love you all.
> 
> Happy reading.
> 
> <3 <3 <3

As far as Aziraphale was concerned, life was good.

After a profitable day working in the bookshop he had showered, shaved and dressed in his finest evening outfit. True to his vintage aesthetic, he wore a stylish three-piece suit which was sure to turn heads. From his perfectly straight bow tie to his perfectly shinned leather wingtips, he was a living and breathing example of what a perfect gentleman should look like. If true be told, Aziraphale rather did feel like the perfect gentleman as he looked himself in the mirror, smiling at his reflection while he spritzed himself with his ‘special occasion cologne’ and ran his comb through his fluffy curls one last time.

Such special care was being taken as tonight was not just any night, it marked six months from when he had officially started dating a certain wily redhead. Six months of dinner dates and Sunday strolls, of late-night drinking and early morning snuggles. And although it had been all of six months, Aziraphale could still feel that rush of nervous energy which made him giddy like a schoolgirl, anxious to see his handsome man. So, it was with butterflies in his belly and love in his heart that he went about locking up the bookshop and heading down the road.

Making his way through Soho, Aziraphale felt like he was walking on air. Cloud nine was a wonderful place to be and he would not have it any other way. He smiled brightly and nodded to everyone he passed as he made his way down the familiar route, stopping only at a florist before turning down the street where Armageddon stood. He looked down and smiled at the single red rose in his hand.

Yes, _life was very good indeed._

……….

“Good evening Ligur, I hope you are having a pleasant day” the cheerful blonde said as he approached the entrance to The Geddon, flashing the familiar bouncer a beaming smile.

With Crowley now being co-owner of the club, Aziraphale quite often came to visit him at work and had made a point of getting to know as many of his partner’s colleagues as he could. At first the big bad bouncer had been rather intimidating, but slowly but surely Aziraphale was getting to know the teddy bear inside.

When Ligur answered his greeting with a shrug of burly shoulders and a noncommittal grunt, Aziraphale doubled his smile, all but blinding Ligur with angelic joy.

“Oh my dear, you smell _lovely._ Is that a new aftershave?” Aziraphale asked once he was close enough to sample the fragrance wafting from the dark man’s face.

“Ah, yeah, thanks” Ligur said, very nearly cracking a smile at the comment. He then turned to open the door for the shorter man. “Enjoy your night, Mr Fell” he said, keeping his usually gruff voice to a low purr.

“Why thank you Ligur, I shall!” Aziraphale beamed, giving a little satisfied wiggle as he slipped through the door.

Aziraphale was greeted by a wolf whistle as he entered the dim, foggy atmosphere of the club, blushing when he realised that said whistle was targeted at him.

“Lookin’ mighty fine tonight, darlin’!” An enthusiastic Eric called out, leisurely leaning over the bar and batting those long sooty eyelashes of his.

“Oh my, thank you Eric!” the blushing angel replied, cheeks almost as red as the rose he held. “Is Crowley around?” he asked politely.

“Ah yeah, he’s in one of the private rooms” Eric said casually, nodding over towards the back of the club where the corridors lead to the quiet suites.

“Oh” Aziraphale said, his face falling as he contemplated what that meant. “Is he, um… he’s not with a… _a client,_ is he?” the angel asked, trying not to let the stab of jealously pang him too hard.

“Oh, no!” Eric said and then let a cute giggle run free. “As far as I know, he is just doing some housekeeping. Go on, see for yourself” he added, nodding his head towards the hallway.

Hearing that, Aziraphale’s heart was instantly soothed, calmed by knowing that his Crowley was not grinding on some random man’s lap.

Since Lucius had put the club in joint names, Crowley had made some significant changes to the club, the main one being firing Hastur. He had once admired Hastur’s managerial skills, but once he found out that he was secretly starting to pimp the dancers out for sex, well he did not want that man anywhere near those dancers ever again. So, with some encouragement from Aziraphale, Crowley had taken up the position of manager and the club was much better for it. Being in charge now, Crowley only danced on stage about once a fortnight unless he had to fill in for someone. Even though Crowley still very much enjoyed performing, there was a part of him that rejoiced in getting to save his moves for his Angel. In return, Aziraphale was more than happy to get Crowley to himself.

So, with his mind and heart set to ease, he flashed Eric a grateful smile and went to find his gorgeous boyfriend.  
……….

“Hello?” Aziraphale asked tentatively as he snuck into the room, pushing the door open as he did so.

“Crowley… what are you… _oh my…”_ the angel’s darling voice trailed off as he laid eyes on what was waiting for him.

The private room looked just the same as it did the last time he was in there, lit with soft lighting and filled with the smooth sounds of easy jazz. Just as before, Crowley was there as well, looking sinfully good and sexy as hell.

Aziraphale always thought Crowley was sexy no matter what he wore (or didn’t wear), but tonight he was looking particularly special. If Aziraphale’s memory served him well, which it usually did, Crowley was wearing exactly the same outfit that he wore the very first night Aziraphale had ever laid eyes on him.

The dress was just as he remembered it, tight fitting and shimmering with dark sequins. It sparkled all the way down Crowley’s stunning figure, stopping at his thighs where black fishnets then trailed down along those slender legs, all the way down to where they ended in a pair of stiletto pumps. Similar to that fateful night, Crowley’s makeup was nothing less than flawless, contoured to highlight his angular features and red lipstick to make his lips pop. Above all else, those eyes glowed with that golden hue, Serpent eyes staring straight at the angel, tempting him to come and taste the forbidden fruit. If looks could kill, well Aziraphale was a total goner. 

Crowley chuckled, enjoying the gobsmacked look on Aziraphale’s face. A part of him, the smug part of him, was rejoicing in the fact that he could still have this effect on his angel. With a sensual sway to those sinful hips, Crowley strutted over and slipped a single finger under Aziraphale’s chin, guiding it upwards until Aziraphale’s gapping mouth closed. “We are not a codfish, dear” he said, crimson lips smoothing into a sinister smirk.

“Now come sit down… spit spot!” Crowley demanded, delivering a teasing squat to Aziraphale’s ass and closing the door behind him.

……….

Aziraphale suddenly felt shy, this place and situation making him feel like he did when he first saw the alluring Serpentarius.

He felt like that meek, quiet man who scurried in and out of the club with his reading book and his headphones. In true spirit of that, he stumbled over his words as he sat down on the lounge and offered the single rose up in his hands.

“You-you look lovely my, my dear… please… ah… this is for you” he finally got out, cherub cheeks quick to blush.

Crowley’s crimson lips smoothed into a knowing smirk as he watched his angel, finding it beyond adorable that he was regressing back into the shy little thing he was when they first met. At least one thing was sure, Crowley still had it!

Filled with the confidence that he could still have that effect on his boyfriend, Crowley swayed over, standing proud and tall in between Aziraphale’s legs and plucking the rose from his hands. Serpentine eyes seared into the depths of watery blues as he made a show of bringing the flower to his nose where he inhaled a deep breath of scented air. He sighed out with a pleased moan, licking his tongue over his lips before he spoke.

“Thank you my love, it’s beautiful” Crowley said, his voice soft and thick with allure. 

Aziraphale made some sort of squeaked sound that could have been considered a ‘you’re welcome’ but was far from being coherent.

Crowley smirked as he swivelled those sinful hips of his and sauntered over to the small bar, leaning over the counter as he plucked out a tall glass to put the rose in. His smirk grew as he felt eyes perving on his rear end, no doubt that the eyes were enjoying the way the short dress lifted as he bent over.

“Like what you see?” Crowley said, looking over his freckled shoulder to the blushing blonde.

Aziraphale looked adorable, all red nose and flushed cheeks. If he didn’t already know Crowley intimately, he would have looked away in embarrassment.

“You _know_ I do” the blonde said, offering a kind smile. He breathed in deep, just admiring the sight of his beloved before he held out his hand. “Come back here, dear boy. Let me get a better look at you.”

The saucy redhead grinned, clicking his seven-inch heels back to his angel. As he returned to Aziraphale, he did a little spin as he went, making sure to show off every side of him, shiny sequins shimmering as he did so. With a bright smile, he accepted Aziraphale’s hand and used it to balance himself as he guided himself onto the blonde’s lap, straddling himself there with ease.

Out of all the seats that Crowley had ever sat on, Aziraphale’s lap was by far the most comfortable. It was warm, soft and plush, but most of all it was attached to Aziraphale. Crowley sighed happily as he wiggled to get comfy, sliding his hands up along thick arms and around the back of his lover’s neck. He smiled, leaning in to press their noses together, placing a sweet and tender kiss on the angel’s lips.

“Happy six-month anniversary, Angel” Crowley whispered, breath hot against his lover’s lips.

 _“Mmm,_ happy anniversary indeed, my love” Aziraphale whispered back, coiling his arms around Crowley’s waist and holding him tight.

They kissed softly and lovingly, little moans vibrating against each other as they stewed in the mounting passion of the moment. Crowley gasped as Aziraphale conjured up some courage, pulling his svelte body closer until their groins meet, both parties well aware of the other’s arousal.

 _“Mmmph,_ wait…” Crowley moaned out when their lips next parted. “I have a surprise for you” he added, his mind trying to think through the fog of lusty thoughts.

“You… we said no presents, remember?” Aziraphale chided, although he wasn’t overly offended by the fact.

“I know… but it’s really something for _both_ of us” Crowley said with a tantalising smirk. Wiggling upon Aziraphale’s lap, Crowley reached over to snatch a little gift box from the side table. Smiling bright and buzzing with anticipation, he gave the box to Aziraphale.

“Hmmm… I wonder what we have here…”Aziraphale thought out loud, curiosity playing across his handsome face as he opened the mysterious little package. Inside, he found what looked like a small remote control.

“How intriguing… what is it, dear?” he asked as he took it out, setting the now empty box to the side. He blinked, turning the remote around in his palm, inspecting the tiny buttons which were obviously meant to turn something on and off.

“Push it and see for yourself, Angel” Crowley smirked, golden eyes glowing with desire.

“Okay…” Aziraphale said hesitantly before clicking the on button.

Aziraphale frowned in concentration, looking around the room to see if he saw anything different. Then he heard it… the softest buzzing sound. Even though he could hear it, he still didn’t know what it actually was… his confused eyes looked to Crowley, sudden realisation dawning upon him as he saw the obvious pleasure on Crowley’s face.

“Oh… _oh my…”_ Aziraphale said, one hand holding the remote while his other trailed down over Crowley’s back, sliding further until he was palming over that tight ass, feeling for something he suspected was there. The moment he felt the buzzing butt plug, he chuckled softly and groaned in approval, finding it the most adorably sexy thing he had ever witnessed.

 _“Mmm…_ do you like it?” Crowley asked, licking his lips before capturing the lower one in his teeth, bitting into it to stop a moan from sliding out.

“My dear, I absolutely love it… _I love you…”_ Aziraphale said, almost not believing his eyes. How was he _this lucky?_

“I love you too, Angel” Crowley replied before capturing his boyfriend’s lips in a headed kiss.

It was not the first time that they had declared their love for each other, nor was it the second. Their love was something that burned so bright that they had both uttered those magical words only weeks after they had officially started to date. They were celebrating being together for six months tonight, but truth be told, it felt like they had always been together.

Overcome by the heat of the moment, the two of them locked lips again, recommencing their passionate kissing. They moaned and growled into each other’s mouths, lips smacking and tongues dancing. Before too long, it legitimately looked like they were trying to lick out each other’s tonsils. It wasn’t until Aziraphale’s fingers started to push down on the plug that Crowley broke the kiss, pressing their foreheads together while his eyes rolled back in pleasure and a long moan came from his open mouth.

“I think _you_ like it too, darling…” Aziraphale said, relishing in getting to be the one to do the teasing for a change. Crowley huffed in frustration and Aziraphale chuckled.

Licking his puffy lips, Aziraphale proceeded to lift up the hem of Crowley’s scandalous dress, humming in appreciation as he hoisted it up and up. Crowley smiled, leaning back and lifting his long arms up to let Aziraphale remove the dress completely. With a sparkle, the garment was tossed onto the ground, forgotten as Aziraphale now took in the sight of an almost naked Crowley.

Cheeky as always, Crowley was not wearing any underwear. With the dress gone, all that he was wearing now was the black fishnet stockings, his high heels and of course that vibrating plug that was lodged nicely in his tight ass, if you counted that as clothing that is.

 _“Fuck…_ you are so perfect…” Aziraphale breathed out, completely entranced by the way Crowley looked.

“I like it when you talk dirty like that” Crowley purred, slithering his hands back around Aziraphale’s neck, glossy black nails teasing circles across the creamy skin.

Aziraphale grinned at the comment, far to aroused to be embarrassed by his use of such profanity. He let a low growl rumble up his throat as he tilted his head, kissing the sensitive spot under Crowley’s ear while his hands took possession of Crowley’s pert ass.

“If you liked that, you are going to _love_ the things I’m going to say while I’m _pounding your ass senseless”_ he whispered into Crowley’s ear, making the slender redhead shiver from head to toe.

Before Crowley could think of anything smart to retort with, Aziraphale’s thick fingers were hooking into the back of the fish net stockings, pulling and ripping them apart until the full roundness of ass cheeks were popping free. Crowley gasped at the roughness that Aziraphale was showing, the thrill of the actions doing wonderful things to his groin. It wasn’t often that Aziraphale took charge like this, but _oh how marvellous it was when he did._

Spurred on by the obscene noises that Crowley was starting to make, Aziraphale nibbled on Crowley’s earlobe while he started to move the plug, gently pumping it in and out of the tight hole. He groaned along as Crowley began to whimper, slender hips rocking in time to the welcomed intrusion.

“Screw the plug, Angel… I want you inside me… _please…”_ Crowley said in a breathy voice, his hands already sliding down the front of Aziraphale’s suit and working on the buckle of the belt.

“Well… since you asked _so nicely…”_ Aziraphale grinned against Crowley’s neck, delivering a soft kiss to the sensitive flesh before leaning back, giving Crowley the room he needed to pull his member out from the confines of his trousers.

With an eager rush to his movements, Crowley grabbed a small bottle of lube from the table and popped it open, looking down at the glorious sight as he poured a healthy amount of the slick over Aziraphale’s cock. The angel closed his eyes, moaning in pleasure as the lube poured over his aching shaft. He gasped when he then felt a slender hand wrap around him, gifting him a few slow strokes to get his cock nice and wet.

Crowley yelped in surprise then as Aziraphale fisted his ass cheeks, hoisting him up so that he was kneeling up on the couch, his ass repositioned to just above the now gleaming cock.

 _“Shhh…_ relax, my love…” Aziraphale cooed as he started to slide the plug out from Crowley’s tight hole, whispering sweet words of encouragement as it came out with a wet pop. Both of them groaned as they felt how open Crowley was, gapping and ready for more.

Looking into each other’s eyes, they smiled and kissed sweetly while Aziraphale lowered Crowley down, seating him nicely onto his cock. Crowley gasped and Aziraphale groaned, both closing their eyes as they slotted together. Whether it was Aziraphale fucking Crowley or Crowley fucking Aziraphale, they always fitted so well together, like their bodies were always meant to be intertwined.

The next minutes that followed were pure bliss, pleasure mounting upon pleasure, driving both lovers to the peaks of ecstasy. Aziraphale panted as he thrusted up without abandon, pounding hard into the very depths of Crowley while the other pushed down, meeting his thrusts each and every time. Crowley moved like a super model, rolling and grinding those spectacular hips, swaying his limber body is all the right ways. He knew just how to move his body to make his angel go wild, and used all of that knowledge to his advantage, driving Aziraphale to thrust harder still, not stopping until they were fucking like wild animals in heat.

As it so often did when they were together, the rest of the world melted away around them, leaving just the two of them in the whole universe. Any anxiety they harboured in their lives disappeared, worries of the world gone as they just concentrated on each other, savouring the sheer bliss of the moment.

There was no better time than when they were joined like this, minds free and conscience clear, nothing left but pure joy.

It was not long before they were riding through their orgasms, Crowley spilling his seed on his stomach while Aziraphale exploded inside him. Panting, they slowly came down from the peaks of pleasure, sighing in content and resting their heads on each other’s shoulders.

 _“Mmm…_ well that was unexpected… I was planning on taking you out for dinner” Aziraphale said once he managed to find his voice again.

“And I was gonna dance for you” Crowley said, laughing at how both of their plans had gone sideways.

“We can still do both… we have all the time, remember?” Aziraphale said, running his hands up and down Crowley’s smooth sides.

 _“Mmm yeah…”_ Crowley agreed. “ All the time in the world.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make me smile.
> 
> <3


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